Guava on Production, Cross-Disciplinary Inspiration & the Joyful Chaos of ‘All Out’ | Faux Poly Interviews

Born in London and shaped by years in Berlin’s creative underground, Guava’s music channels an infectious energy rooted in different moods and reinvention.

From early days surrounded by a surprising cluster of future electronic producers to finding fresh inspiration in contemporary dance, photography, and fine dining, his approach to sound is refreshingly open and joyfully unpolished.

In this interview, Guava dives deep into the playful methods behind ‘All Out’, explaining how the different influences from outside the music world helped him craft a record full of happy accidents and honest emotion.

Read on for an insight into Guava’s world. ‘All Out’ is out now on Faux Poly.

Hey Guava, your music has such a distinct energy. Can you take us back to where it all began? Where are you from, and where do you live now? Were there specific local sounds or scenes that pushed you toward electronic music in particular?

I was born in London at UCL Hospital, the same hospital as my friend Charlie Baker, aka Breaka, though he came three years later. It’s funny how many producers seemed to come out of that one hospital!

Eventually moved to the suburbs to a town called Berkhamsted and I attended school in Kings Langley, which, oddly enough, also turned out to be a bit of a hotspot for music producers. Adam Pitts went there, as did Henry Greenleaf and a few others — Lisene included.

In total, about five or six fairly well-known electronic producers came out of that one school, and we all knew each other. We even had the same music teacher — shout out to Mr. Rolton for probably cultivating so much creative frustration that we all ended up taking matters into our own hands!

After school, I moved to Berlin in 2020, diving headfirst into its legendary music scene. Now, after four and a half years of pure excitement, I’m making my way back to London, ready for the next chapter.

You mention using Ableton templates to restrict the freedom the DAW has to offer. Can you go into more detail on how that worked for you creatively?

I started making Ableton templates because I was thinking about how, in a traditional music studio, everything is already set up and ready to go: the synths, the drum machines, the effects. But when you open a blank Ableton project, it’s like walking into an empty room, which can be completely uninspiring.

So I wanted to recreate that ‘studio-ready’ feeling by building pre-made templates with the goal to eliminate all the friction — so no more wasting time setting up drum machines, routing effects, or tweaking settings. Instead, I could jump straight into the creative flow, making music as quickly and freely as possible.

For me, it was all about recapturing that pure joy I felt when I was eight years old, messing around with music at my cousin’s house. That feeling where you’re having so much fun, you never want to stop.

As we get older, I think a lot of producers and artists lose that sense of playfulness. The process can become frustrating, and the magic fades. But for me, the whole point of making music is to feel like a kid again. Just experimenting, playing, and having fun — that’s really what these templates are about. Removing the barriers so the creativity can flow.

Were there any happy accidents or unexpected directions that came out of using this restricted workflow?

It's all about embracing happy accidents in the creative process. When you remove all self-judgment and allow yourself complete freedom, magic starts happening organically.

That mindset became fundamental to how I work, where every unexpected sound or spontaneous idea could become something special.

Working this way led to tracks coming together incredibly fast — most took about 20 minutes from start to finish. That lightning-fast approach kept the energy raw and the process exciting.

There was no time to overthink or second-guess — just pure creative flow. It created this beautiful space where freedom and fun became the driving forces behind everything.

Now that you’ve gone through this process of building and working within a refined Ableton template, do you see yourself using a similar approach for future records? Or has it opened up other ideas or methods you’re curious to explore going forward?

At its core, creativity thrives on refusing to be boxed in — whether we're talking about daily rituals or artistic process.

What makes creation so vital is that there's no rulebook demanding how it must be done. I actively resist committing to any single way of working indefinitely. Instead, I design flexible systems that provide just enough scaffolding to actually enhance creative freedom, not restrict it.

This philosophy mirrors why games like chess remain endlessly fascinating — their defined rules paradoxically spark greater innovation. Constraints force you to engage differently with the fundamentals.

I'm reminded of Marco Pierre White's culinary approach: he famously said he wasn't in the business of innovation, but of pleasure. His pursuit wasn't novelty for novelty's sake, but mastery within tradition — then knowing precisely when to bend the rules.

That tension between structure and spontaneity is where the magic lives across disciplines. In music, as in cooking or games, true artistry emerges when you deeply understand the foundations, then play at the edges of what's possible.

That delicate balance between respect for craft and the courage to disrupt it is where the work stays alive — both for the creator and the audience.

You mention Alexander Rodchenko as an inspiration. Can you expand on how he influenced your process? And were there any other non-musical influences that fed into the making of ‘All Out’?

Marco Pierre White has been a huge inspiration for me — his book White Heat was actually a 30th birthday gift from my oldest friend.

When you open it, the recipes are astonishingly complex, with these incredibly detailed ingredient lists. For me, it was like a punk musician suddenly staring at a classical score. The level of technique and precision was mind-blowing. At first I thought 'I could never make something like this,' but that's exactly what makes cross-pollinating ideas between art forms so powerful.

Since moving to Berlin, I've immersed myself in contemporary dance — discovering visionaries like Pina Bausch and Katherine Dunham, while also drawing inspiration from photographers like Wolfgang Tillmans, Alexander Rodchenko, and Tyler Mitchell (who I first saw at a gallery show).

What's fascinating is realizing how all creativity springs from the same source, then branches out into different rivers of expression.

Take dance culture for example — dancers constantly attend classes and participate in jams as part of their practice. That collaborative, always-learning mentality is so refreshing compared to the DJ world, where people often get trapped in their own egos.

There's something incredibly valuable about observing how other disciplines operate and asking: How can I apply this to my own craft?

These cross-disciplinary insights keep the creative process alive and constantly evolving.

How does ‘All Out’ differ to ‘Afterglow’ in your opinion?

Each release represents a different chapter. A distinct moment in time created by a different version of myself.

The process for this record was genuinely more enjoyable compared to Afterglow, which I completed about three years ago in a much more stressed headspace. There's definitely been an evolution in my approach as I feel more confident in my craft now — though perhaps trading some of that old stress for a different kind of introspection.

I don't know if I should admit this, but where there was stress before, there might be a bit more melancholy now. That's just the honest reality of where I'm at creatively these days.

Were there any instruments or hardware central to the EP’s sound design?

My studio setup is a mix of classic and modern gear. I have the Elektron Machinedrum, Octatrack, my trusty Gibson SG guitar running through Boss ME-70 pedals, all tied together with Ableton and Logic.

I've also got a Fostex cassette machine I use regularly, and even pull out a Kaoss Pad occasionally for fun textures.

But honestly, the gear isn't what matters most. It's about chasing that creative joy — like asking a journalist which word processor they use.

That said, there is something magical about tools that truly inspire you. I've recently fallen in love with fountain pens, of all things. I even went to this incredible pen party in Berlin where enthusiasts traded and tested everything from budget finds to a €3000 Montblanc (which, yes, absolutely lived up to the hype).

When you find that perfect tool — whether it's a pen, guitar, or synth — something that feels so right you never want to put it down, that's when you know.

The best gear isn't what looks impressive on a shelf — it's whatever keeps you creating, whatever makes you want to keep playing. Anything gathering dust might as well be in the bin — if it's not sparking inspiration, what's the point?

Are there any collaborations currently in the works, or artists — whether producers, vocalists, or even visual creatives — you’d love to work with in the future?

One of my 2024 highlights was definitely the live show we put together in October with my friend Chris Anderson handling visuals. Collaborating on that whole experience was incredibly rewarding — there's just something magical about bringing music to life in that way.

When it comes to collaborations, my approach is pretty simple. I just love making music with people whose work excites me. It's never about networking or strategy — purely about that creative spark you get when working with someone who shares your passion.

At the end of the day, it's all about enjoying the process and seeing where the music takes us!