The Layers Behind Obsession: Sound, Emotion and Collaboration

Obsession is a song that started coming together on a quiet Sunday morning in January 2025. Rikke, my wife, was taking the dog for a walk, something I usually do. So now I had a rare window of time to myself. Still in bed, I sat up with my MacBook and started playing around with sounds. That’s when the bass loop hit me. Smooth, dark, and rolling. It had a kind of weight to it that pulled me in right away. It became the rhythmic driver that the rest of the song was created around.

I didn’t plan to write about obsession. The chorus came first—as it usually does for me—and that shaped everything else. The lyrics, the verses, the structure… they all followed that initial melodic idea. I actually wrote the verses and choruses in bed that morning, challenging myself to finish the core of the song before I even got up. It wasn’t until later, once the track was complete, that I realized how much it reminded me of something in the Lenny Kravitz universe. That blend of grit and soul.

The theme came out of reflection—things I’ve seen in others, how emotional obsession can completely change a person. Not love—something more consuming, more irrational. I’ve watched people I know struggle with it, and I remember that intensity from my younger days. When emotions ran high and boundaries got blurred.

“I’ve tried to forget / but your face lingers yet, / like a ghost I can’t leave behind.”

Musically, I was going for something slightly psaltery in tone, but grounded by a beat. I ended up layering two drum samples—one panned left, one right—to give the rhythm a sense of motion and imbalance. That bass loop never lets up, and the song opens with a vocoder-style harmony that teases the chorus. It’s soft and moody, and when the full verse hits with double-tracked vocals, it shifts into something fuller—pulling you into the story.

I hope what hits listeners first is the rhythm and the mood. That’s what I worked hardest on—creating a journey that unfolds gradually. Then the lyrics come into focus and, hopefully, connect on a deeper level.

The rap section came later—and it was a more intense writing session. I really wanted to tap into the chaotic, inner monologue that obsession creates. After recording it, I shared an early version with Nando, a longtime friend and collaborator. His feedback was spot on: he told me I needed more power and emotion, and asked if I had recorded it sitting down. I had. He could tell. So I went back, stood up, and re-recorded the whole thing with more energy. That second take made all the difference—it gave the rap the weight and urgency it needed.

Nando also contributed a rhythm guitar track from LA, using a crybaby effect that added this rich, expressive texture. It wasn’t something I originally planned to include, but once I heard it, I knew it belonged. His part helped lock in the emotional tone—somewhere between restraint and release.