Co-Pilot brings a new wave to contemporary music.

Electronic Rock for a new era of Club Culture. (Giovanni Giangi Natalini – Interview)

It’s hard to use terms today to describe something in a world where everything seems to have already been done; however, Co-Pilot sounds like Co-Pilot

The Etymology of the Title: Why did you choose the name Jaguaro? Does it represent a nocturnal creature moving through the club, or is it a metaphor for something more instinctive and wild?

The name comes from a piece of graffiti on a wall at Urban in Perugia, one of the few venues in Italy that can still truly be called a club. Jaguaro immediately evoked something in me… I’m not exactly sure what, but it inspired me to write this EP. Looking back, yes, it probably reminds me of an instinctive creature that moves stealthily, and it can be associated with the kind of person who frequents clubs like Berghain.

Humanized Electronics: The record has been described as a tribute to club culture, but with a very personal touch. How did you manage to balance the coldness of machines with the warmth of human emotion in tracks like Take Me Somewhere?

In reality, Co-Pilot’s music is exactly about that: warming up synthesized sounds, loops, and electronic elements with real instruments such as drums, bass, and guitar. The challenge is always finding the right balance, and it’s often not easy. Sometimes, rather than warming things up, you end up “dirtying” the synthetic sounds. That’s where taste, influences, and inspiration make the difference in achieving a satisfying result.

Jaguaro takes its name from a sign inside the Urban, a historic club in Perugia, one of the few Italian venues that, according to Co-Pilot, still authentically embodies club culture. The concept of the EP is a tribute to clubbing, a subculture that, in some ways, is disappearing from its original form. The EP ends with a field recording from the bathrooms of Berlin’s Berghain Club, the epitome of global clubbing.

Tell us about the cover artwork of Jaguaro. What does it represent?

I didn’t have a precise idea in mind at first. Everything actually started from a photograph taken by my partner, where I’m seen from behind standing in front of a colorful image detail that looks like an explosion of colors. I’ve always felt that my music carries that same idea: something charged with energy, ready to burst, powerful, dynamic, and above all colorful, positive, and engaging.

When I got in touch with EVES, I discussed these feelings with Cesare Bignotti, also known as Useless Idea. We immediately agreed that we didn’t want to rely on the image of a jaguar for the cover artwork. Instead, Cesare came up with this graphic concept where the colors reflect those sensations, recalling the shimmering reflections of a disco ball and its lenticular effects. By staying within an abstract visual language, he created an image with no direct references, leaving space for the title and artist name, which are themselves colorful, as if they were made from the very substance of the music or splashed with exploding liquid pigments.

Cesare, who is the creative mind behind EVES, designs all of the label’s artwork, paying close attention to every detail. EVES may be a modest independent reality, but it operates with a high level of professionalism. That’s one of the reasons I chose to release the record through EVES: it’s a respected label that belongs to a scene where music matters regardless of commercial results.

At the end of the day, we’re here to express ourselves. In some way, we’re artists, and music comes before everything else. Otherwise, we wouldn’t create anything in the first place and certainly nothing positive.

The graphic references behind the artwork draw inspiration from the visual language of Factory Records. Not because of any direct musical affinity these are different eras and different contexts. Factory Records was associated with post-punk and new wave, whereas my music comes from a different background. The connection lies in the graphic and artistic approach, in the way visual identity and music come together to communicate a coherent vision and a strong sense of cultural purpose. In a way, my music can be seen as a form of post-punk, and it certainly belongs to a new wave if we consider the term in its original, etymological meaning.

• 

• 

A Sonic Legacy: This work carries echoes of a long and complex career. How has your artistic evolution influenced the “robotic yet sentimental” sound of this EP? What has changed compared to your previous releases, especially your debut on WeMe Records?

Compared to my previous releases, I felt the need to move closer to a song-oriented format and to incorporate real voices and actual singing. In my earlier work, I first pursued a harsher sound that was closer to techno; later, with Botanical, I explored themes related to traditional music more deeply.

The Studio Workflow: What was the starting point for tracks like Boys of Forgetting? Do they originate from a persistent beat or from a fragmented vocal line?

Co-Pilot songs almost always begin with beats or loops that spark something in me. In this case, the song started from the refrain, from the vocal melody. The chorus was what lit the spark, and then I built the rhythmic section around it. The lyrics were also a major source of inspiration. I found myself reflected in the words, and I wanted to channel a kind of adolescent anger that I still carry inside me.

Machines vs. Intuition: Which instruments (synths, drum machines, or software) defined the sonic aesthetic of Jaguaro? Was there a technical “mistake” that you decided to keep because it gave the track a soul?

The Use of Silence: Even though it’s an electronic record, the space between sounds seems fundamental. How did you approach subtraction to make the tracks so hypnotic?

Subtraction is fundamental in music. It’s a bit like being concise in conversation you learn it gradually (though not always, of course). As a drummer, for example, I started out with four toms, two floor toms, seven or eight cymbals, and so on. Today my drum kit is minimal: snare, floor tom, kick drum, hi-hat, and ride cymbal.

The real goal for me was finding the right sound for this project, and I hope that, in some way, I succeeded.

The Live Dimension: How do you plan to translate the intimacy of tracks like I Am Your Flower (if it’s part of the set or represents its mood) into a live context? Will it be an immersive visual experience, or will you focus entirely on the raw sound?

I’m Your Flower??

In the next Co-Pilot live set, I’ll be adding a bassist, so there will be two of us on stage. Beyond the music itself, Co-Pilot’s sound requires a visual dimension; one depends on the other.

The Legacy of Jaguaro: After these 19 minutes of music, where is Co-Pilot heading? Is this EP an exploratory detour, or does it lay the foundations for a more extensive full-length album? What are the challenges of producing this kind of record, which exists in a hybrid space between performed music, studio recording, and DAW-based production?

Without a doubt, Jaguaro is the step leading toward my next full-length album, for which I already have a concept in mind an idea that’s been fluttering around in my head for quite some time. The album will be called Luddism. The concept struck me like lightning. I started researching the early 19th-century movement that emerged in the UK, and I’ve become quite a fan of Ned Ludd.

As for the challenges, honestly, the process feels very natural to me. In fact, production and recording done in my home studio, “Il Rancio” in San Gemini—come quite easily. Everything is wired and ready to go, so if I’m in the right flow state, I can finish a recording session in just a few hours. Then I have a great deal of fun during post-production.

Which artists would you most like to collaborate with in the near future?

There are quite a few: from Ryoji Ikeda to Demdike Stare, and more recent artists like Skeemask or Djrum. More than anyone else, I would have loved to collaborate with Mark Bell of LFO, but unfortunately he passed away in 2014.