Name: Xani Kolac
Nationality: Austrlian
Occupation: Violinist, songwriter
Current release: Xani's new album Keep Moving is out April 23rd 2025. Pre-save it here.
If you enjoyed this Xani interview and would like to know more about her activities and music, visit her official homepage. She is also on Instagram, bandcamp, and Facebook.
When it comes to experiencing the sensation of “energy” as as a listener, which albums, performances, and artists come to mind?
I feel most alive and fuelled with a tingling, emotional energy when I listen to and see musicians perform live. I often get this sensation also while listening to live albums, which is why I am a collector of live vinyl albums.
I have witnessed several transformational live performances, but some of my favourites include seeing Camille perform “Music Hole” and “Le Fil”, Björk at Big Day Out, Sigur Ros performing at The Palais, and Emma Donovan when she performs anywhere here in Naarm/Melbourne.
There can be many different kinds of energy in art – soft, harsh, healing, aggressive, uplifting and many more. Which do you tend to feel drawn to most?
I hadn’t really thought of this before so it’s interesting to think about.
I look to music for all kinds of energy, it’s never one thing or another. But I do really enjoy when music and sound elicit physical reactions in my body which mostly comes from harsher, louder, more dissonant resonances.
That said, I think I seek a balance, just like in life, and in order to feel the energy of something getting big, I look for the softer, smaller moments that amplify the epicness.
I have had a hard time explaining that listening to death metal calms me down. When you listen to a song with a particular energy, does it tend to fill you with the same energy – or are there “paradoxical” effects?
Many people will describe how listening to sad songs whilst sad, makes them happier, or less anxious. I definitely feel this. When I am terribly depressed or sombre, listening to heart-achingly depressing music always makes me feel lighter, happier.
So perhaps, when you listen to a particularly harsh or aggressive death metal track, you might be in a heightened state of anxiety. The music mirrors your emotional state, which is a sort of validation of your feelings, which might then cause you to calm down.
I’m not a biologist or psychologist though, so it’s just my guess! But I feel these things, too.
In as far as it plays a role for the music you like listening to or making, what role do words and the voice of a vocalist play for the transmission of energy?
Certain words ping out for me. I’ve had experiences where I’ve misheard a lyric, and upon finding out the true lyric, the energy of the song changes for me, more often than not, for the worse! The timbre of a voice however injects me with the same sorts of energy as all instruments.
This is again why I especially love listening to live records. Vocals performed live are raw and vulnerable and that vulnerability is extremely powerful.
When it comes to experiencing the sensation of “energy” as as a creator, how would you describe the physical sensation of experiencing this energy? [Where do you feel it, do you have a visual sensation/representation, is there a sense of release or a build-up of tension etc …]
I often create in a state of flow because I create first by improvising. I hit record and find a way into the flow, I improvise my ideas and I listen back to them all later to mine for good ideas to edit and expand on.
So the energy I tap into while in a state of flow is serene, calming, engulfing and it can often feel like I haven’t taken a deep breath for a long time. I’m suspended in a state of play, lost in sound; my eyes are closed and I don’t see anything. I am only listening.
My favourite example of this is in my track “Unknown Area”. This piece was completely improvised and recorded from scratch. I just wanted to explore what it might mean to venture into an unknown area.
We added drums later to this track, but what you hear with the violins is all recorded in one take using live looping, no overdubs. I can always hear the journey I went on through my flow state when listening back to this track.
When it comes to composing / songwriting, are you finding that spontaneity and just a few takes tend to capture energy best?
When I’m making new music, the improvised nature of what I first create is magical, and I try to hold onto this energy for as long as possible. But, my best versions of work come from editing, honing and digging deeper.
However, when it comes to recording the song/track, I am a big believer in the first take being the one.
For your current release, what kind of energy were you looking for?
I was really vibing listening to CAN’s Ege Bamyasi when I wrote the songs for my new album.
I had also been reading many articles and books about Krautrock, The Zodiac Club in Berlin, and Kraftwerk. What I love about this music is the rawness, the unfinished nature of it, and the exploration of identity that during that time would have been a conflict of history and future.
My album is written about very vulnerable experiences with grief and sadness. So I wanted to match that vulnerability energy with a vulnerable musical sound. Home recordings, one takes, limited overdubs, roomy sounds, that kind of thing. Plenty of mistakes and human moments.
How do you capture the energy you want in the studio?
For this release, I recorded in my upstairs bedroom. My husband Cristian Barbieri is a guitarist and has also started doing more production and engineering work. I wanted to be as vulnerable, but as safe, as I could be.
So we recorded the tracks together, in that room, at my home. And we had drummer Justin Olsson (who is a long time collaborator and dear friend) to join us. It felt less flashy and expensive. It felt more accessible and friendly.
No fancy lights or equipment, just three humans connecting through music.
What role do factors like volume, effects like distortion, amplification, and production in general for in terms of creating the energy you want?
I use amplification and electronic effects for shaping energy and sound. They insert a sense of structure onto sounds that I produce.
I am always looking for lo-fi artefacts in the sounds I make - those little ripples of extraneous noises that come from bowing or plucking a string. I can better grab hold of those little sounds when I use amplification. The louder I am, the more overtones I can get. It creates more buzz, hum and atmosphere, which is what I love.
I tend to avoid clinical, sterile, silent sounding environments. This track I improvised a while ago has plenty of atmosphere. I recorded this track myself in my bedroom during the extensive Melbourne lockdowns.
It was an interesting time because I would live stream these improvisations using in ear monitoring. Something very new to me at the time. But being in my own little world with headphones on, meant I could really hear and explore those overtones and gritty atoms sounds.
In terms of energy, what changes when you're performing live on stage, with an audience present, compared to the recording stage?
Everything! Live, I get to feel the energy of the room, of the audience, of the audience’s anticipation, of the day that I’ve had and all the days we’ve collectively had. There is such a vibrant energy in a live room. Nothing compares to it.
There’s also incredible lighting, or moodiness, haze or chatter. All of these sounds create a different experience of making music. They’re distracting, and they tell new stories. And it’s a whole bundle of new energy to bounce off. I make my best music when I’m in a live room.
Would you say that you prefer to stay in control to be able to shape the energy or do you surrender to it and allow the music to take over? Who, ultimately has control during a live performance?
I absolutely love to surrender to whatever is going on in the moment. This is my happiest place, and what draws me to improvisation and live music. For example, I just released an album of live recordings taken from a residency I did at a local jazz club here in Brunswick.
These gigs featured first time performances with guest musicians. We didn’t rehearse, we didn’t pre-plan anything, we just had a big play together in a room full of people. I love listening back to that album because it feels alive, energetic, and like we are going on a journey in real-time; navigating directions and missed turns. It’s exciting and fresh and never to be performed again.
As well as that, I’ve learned in my experience that I can’t control a live performance. So much is out of my hands - the venue, acoustics, sound engineers, attitudes of everyone on the day, audience members and their vibe, the weather, surprises … I just have to let it all go.
When I have tried to control things - same sound engineer, in-ear monitors, same sets over and over, I’ve lost something important. I’ve struggled to reach the usual high and elated energy of a live performance. So I try to avoid taking any sort of control.
The energy that music is able to generate can sometimes be overwhelming. How, do you think, can artists make use of this energy to bring about change in the world?
Musicians already do change the world. Movements throughout histories have a soundtrack - for better or worse.
I encourage artists to research deeply, to make sure that if their music is used for anything that it aligns with their values. Music is an extremely powerful force for change.
But musicians, like all people, have myriad different beliefs and principles. I share music to energise, to inspire, and to shed light on what I’ve observed of the world and its inhabitants. I take my responsibility as an artist very seriously.


