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What happens when a genre-blurring electronic duo decides to say ‘yes’ to dance music? With Chorophobia, Weval explore what it means to make dance music on their own terms. That means stripping things back, saying yes more often, and finding freedom in discomfort.
Much of Weval’s world – that is, the work of Merijn Scholte Albers & Harm Coolen – has always been shaped by intuition and emotion. Their records favour atmosphere over structure, deeply rooted in layers of textures that fans know and love.
Much of Weval’s world – that is, the work of Merijn Scholte Albers & Harm Coolen – has always been shaped by intuition and emotion. Their records favour atmosphere over structure, deeply rooted in layers of textures that fans know and love.
However, this year has been slightly different. As they describe it, they are in their ‘yes year’ – a deliberate commitment to accept the things that feel slightly awkward, or too bold for who they thought they were.
However, this year has been slightly different. As they describe it, they are in their ‘yes year’ – a deliberate commitment to accept the things that feel slightly awkward, or too bold for who they thought they were.
Learning to Say Yes
Their latest album, Chorophobia, sits at the centre of that decision. It pushes the duo into the territory they once approached cautiously: the dancefloor. That’s not the oversaturated dancefloor that many are frankly bored with, but one that gives you the feeling of walking into a house party too early – slightly awkward and unsure, but slowly warming with every track.
As the duo say, ‘we were almost afraid to call it a dance record. There are expectations that come with that, and we didn’t want to pretend to be something we’re not.’
Instead, they approached dance music lightly, following the magnetism of instinct and curiosity. The result is a ‘dance’ record rooted in atmosphere, allowing people to conquer their own hesitation, together.
Letting the Room In
One of their boldest decisions, and this is something we haven’t seen before, was inviting fans into the studio for a private listening session of Chorophobia before its release. For producers who are used to working alone, this may feel intrusive, and it was for Weval – at least at first:
‘It was so awkward,’ they say. ‘The room suddenly felt like a museum, or like witnessing your own funeral.’
Despite the initial discomfort, things settled and the feedback was honest and direct – the track needs to be shorter here, or the drop harder there. The process taught them to let go earlier and to resist disappearing into the abyss of endless layers and fine tuning. It’s also telling of a larger theme running through Chorophobia: finishing things without suffocating the original spark.
Over the years, the duo admit that they’ve fallen down countless rabbit holes with music – trying to mimic analogue equipment digitally, chasing textures, or polishing unnecessary details.
Now, they prefer immediacy. A track begins with the tool that gets them there quickest, whether it’s a synth, a plugin, or a voice recording captured on a phone.
As they say themselves: ‘if you feel something, that’s enough. You don’t need to destroy the joy of the project by trying countless other options.’
Stripping things back doesn’t mean abandoning their signature depth, though, and they have achieved a nice balance with Chorophobia. As they reflect, years of ‘ear training’ and experimentation with analogue hardware and plugins has enabled them to make decisions well, and to know what to prioritise when making a new record.
Finding Their Own Way into Dance Music
Their move towards club music came from spending more time DJing, which opened their eyes to leading a dancefloor and moving with the mood, as well as some of the pitfalls of modern club music.
Some club nights left them feeling ‘a bit underwhelmed,’ they say. And there’s certainly room for the signature ambient, atmospheric sound of Weval on the dancefloor.
Chorophobia isn’t a standard dance record given its level of texture and flourishes. It’s a reflection on why dance music feels so liberating for some and yet intimidating for others. It mirrors the stumbling first few minutes on a dancefloor, the discomfort of being observed, and the slow unfurling of tension into movement.
Hackney Church facilitated this very well. The building’s acoustics lend themselves to immersion as well as reflective listening, and this is what Weval's all about. The sound swelled slowly as the set bedded in, allowing the room to adjust to its own awareness and let loose.
As I’m sure they’d agree, Chorophobia works both for themselves, as well as the audience, in helping conquer the fear of dance.
Collaboration Without Overthinking
Another part of Weval’s ‘yes year’ has been loosening their grip on collaboration and control. Historically, they have approached working with others carefully, wondering whether styles would clash or be compatible. Now, they trust the process more and try to put overthinking aside.
Their track ‘Open Up That Door’ emerged from an unplanned two-hour session with the incredible KILAMANJARO, who himself joined the duo at Hackney Church to play the track live – bringing incredible energy. Working with Eefje de Visser on their live shows has also been similarly smooth, joining them on the tour for vocals on ‘Never Stay for Love’ for example – a bold, emotive track showcasing her incredible vocal range.
Merijn’s recent experience directing a feature film, he reflects, also reinforced the lesson. In cinema, he realised that as a director, ‘controlling’ actors is counterproductive. Rather, speaking to people ‘as people’ and getting to know them – trusting them to do their job well – yields better results.
The same applies to music. Trusting others, and resisting the urge to ‘control’ every detail, has made the process easier and more enjoyable for the pair.
The Joy of Just Making
Before music, Weval came from film. When finding music, it has always provided an escape from the rules and strictures of that medium. Despite clearly taking inspiration from film, for example in the B-movie-inspired artwork and the renewed interest in visual storytelling – exemplified in their latest music video for ‘Movement’ – music remains the place where they feel most free to express.
Soundtracks, they explain, can survive on a few chords because they support images. Music, however, often demands more, as it is much harder to follow through a concept, theme, or visualisation throughout an entire track. Chorophobia is their attempt at doing that without slipping into old habits, and bringing some of their experience in film along with them.
The record isn’t necessarily about overcoming fear so much as embracing it and rolling with the punches. Instead of avoiding dance music, they happily invite awkwardness and the uncertain into their everyday.
Most of the time, they reflect, ‘things aren’t as scary as you might think.’
All images by Patrick Smith.
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