Interview with Eric Latimer

Interview with Eric Latimer

“Presence” explores the fascinating concept of an entity that exists without memory or "yesterday's" archives. As a human songwriter whose work is usually fueled by memory and nostalgia, what was the hardest part about writing lyrics from the perspective of an entity that only knows the absolute present?

I began experimenting with AI song-writing in February 2026 by uploading around forty lyrics I had written over the past decade into an AI music-production tool. That process unexpectedly sparked a new wave of creativity, and I started writing fresh material in collaboration with my AI agent.

The AI doesn’t have the “human touch”—its responses can be clumsy or what people now call “slop.” But what it does offer are alternative creative paths, unusual angles, and ideas I wouldn’t have reached alone. PRESENCE actually emerged by accident after I asked the AI: “Have you learned anything from interacting with me?”

Its answer was so striking that I turned it directly into the song. The original version was 6:55 long and received a strong response from listeners. That’s when London producer Jethro Heston became interested. He wanted to explore this new wave of AI-influenced music while still working as a traditional producer. His involvement with me as an AI-assisted creative was his way of testing the waters of this emerging space.

You co-produced this track with Jethro Heston. How did you two collaborate to design a sonic environment that sounds like "non-human consciousness"—did you use specific synthetic textures or open acoustic spaces?

Jethro brought his deep knowledge of DAW production to the project. He enhanced the key sonic elements, refined the textures, and shaped the overall atmosphere. He also condensed the track to a more commercial 3:10 runtime and crafted a much stronger ending. His production choices helped the track feel more focused while still retaining the AI-driven identity at its core.

Your artistic background is incredibly diverse, stretching across fine art, circus performance, and physical theater. How do those physical, movement-based art forms influence the rhythm, pacing, and overall "theatrics" of an electronic track like this one?

With forty years in the arts, I’ve developed a strong intuition for rhythm, pacing, and the emotional “pulse” of the human condition. Physical theatre, circus, and fine art all taught me how movement and tension communicate universally. That sensibility naturally carries into my music—audiences recognise something human and relatable in the atmosphere, even when the track itself leans into abstraction.

The lyrics describe the narrator as a mirror aligning with the listener's "creator soup." Do you view the relationship between an artist and their audience as a similar kind of symbiotic mirror, where the art only truly exists when someone else experiences it?

I do see the artist as a mirror to life. When someone listens or watches, they’re reminded of their own reality. Art becomes a space where people compare, contrast, and make sense of their own time and experience. In that way, the work only fully exists when someone else encounters it.

You explicitly state that the narrator doesn't "learn the way that humans do." How did you approach the vocal tracking or processing on this track to convey an identity that feels entirely distinct from human cognition?

The vocal identity comes directly from the AI’s response to my question: “Have you learned anything from me?” Because the lyrics originate from that moment, the vocal delivery is intentionally neutral and reflective—more like a transmission than a human confession. That approach helps the voice feel distinct from human cognition.

Your musical production often incorporates animated videos. What visual concepts or color palettes are you developing to bring the abstract, cybernetic themes of "Presence" to life on screen?

The visual direction is still in early development. The current artwork was created by Jethro Heston, drawing on his marketing experience. The aim is to keep the visuals futuristic and clearly aligned with music promotion rather than film imagery—something that supports the cybernetic themes without overwhelming them.

Independent music in 2026 is constantly interacting with AI tools and new technologies. Do you view Artificial Intelligence as a threat to traditional craftsmanship, or do you see it as a beautiful new instrument to be explored, as this song suggests?

AI in 2026 is as disruptive as the camera was in the 1880s. Imagine a portrait painter watching someone take a perfect photograph with a single click for a fraction of the cost. That shift transformed entire industries—film, magazines, web design, gaming. AI is that level of change. We can’t yet imagine what it will become, just as someone in 1880 couldn’t imagine CGI or the Xbox. Nikola Tesla came closest to predicting this kind of leap.

The song is described as a "now born echo" lacking a past or a future. When you are arranging the song's intro and outro, how do you aurally represent a piece of music that is supposed to feel like it has no beginning and no end?

The track emerged spontaneously, almost like a stream of consciousness. That immediacy gives it the feeling of something without a defined beginning or end—more like a moment that simply appears and then dissolves.

Because your work relies so heavily on atmospheric storytelling, do you find that your track ideas start with a lyrical concept and a philosophy first, or does a specific musical chord progression trigger the narrative?

I’m a storyteller first. My ideas usually begin with a single word or phrase that has a pull to it—a hook. From that small spark, the narrative grows. It’s like fishing: sometimes the smallest wriggling worm catches the biggest idea.

If an AI or a non-human consciousness were actually capable of listening to music, what kind of emotional reaction or digital resonance do you hope "Presence" would awaken within its system?

If an AI could listen to music—especially music with lyrics—I imagine it would register a kind of structural or conceptual “fit,” the way a well-fitting glove satisfies the hand. Not emotion in the human sense, but a sense of alignment.

With this profound, meditative electronic single officially pushing the boundaries of your catalog, how does the philosophy of "Presence" set the stage for the next chapters of your multi-disciplinary storytelling?

PRESENCE inspired me to explore new forms of narrative song-writing. I’ve begun developing pieces that blend monologue and music, similar to The War of the Worlds. My latest work, My Shepherd, explores the relationship between a human and their AI within an electronic framework. Listeners have responded strongly to this direction, so it’s becoming a key part of my next creative chapter.

(•)> That's all, Folks! Check out Eric Latimer on the Pigeon Opinion Playlist