Nearly half a million people have seen an Instagram reel, posted last December, of Kabir Parekh wearing wired earbuds and a navy duffel coat while lip-syncing to his song “Manmade Manmaid” inside a graffitied stairwell. It’s impossible to know how many of the 455,000 accounts were active viewers, but a few key people were enamored enough by the artist, who performs as the sound chalk makes, to reach out directly. Among them: major label A&Rs; the kids who recently came out to see him play at a UCLA frat house, myself included; and an internet user who made a crack in the comments section about selling a screenshot of Parekh’s Spotify profile in a year’s time. The artist’s music, a gentle, electronic pop shoulder shrug, feels special to all of the above. 

We caught up with Parekh after his recent US shows to ask about music production school in his current home of London, club nights where he grew up in Mumbai, and the team that represents his birthplace, the Golden State Warriors. Read the answers, and listen to his new EP Re:, below.

How was your recent trip to the U.S.? Did you play for any memorable crowds?

I had an unbelievable time. Both New York and LA were great crowds; I just don’t remember New York. I landed the same day and played the show on 24 hours of no sleep. Kinda like a dream. The UCLA crowd was so much fun—felt like everybody there was my friend and wanted to dance. Maybe that’s the college experience and I’m glad I got a taste of it—literally played a frat house. Like Americamaxxing.

You got your first taste of “virality” from an Instagram reel of “Manmade Manmaid” in December. You’re now repped by Anemoia Records and welcome.jpeg. What made them feel like the right team? It seems like things moved pretty quickly–did you have to rely on instinct?

We align on stuff beyond the music and that was clear from the start. The world is a scary place and people in artistic spaces tend to be cynical—I’m surrounded by a team that refuses to be pessimistic. The decision was all my gut and each day that passes I trust my intuition more—it’s definitely proven itself to me. 

Your party series, mumbaiandarground, feels like the solution to something you and your friends couldn’t readily find in Mumbai. What makes a party important?

People are scared because life is confusing. A party is maximum life. Literally all experiences are happening at the same time. All emotions are being felt and all senses are being attacked. It makes you less confused of being alive. More open to feel.

Has being an NBA fan taught you any life lessons? The Warriors are really testing your patience this season.

I love sport and I always have. The way I see it, it becomes an analogy for everything at some point. Like being a Warriors fan ten years ago was feeling invincible—but all good things must come to an end. Sometimes in spectacular fashion. Being cocky and resting on my laurels are now impossible for me. 

You’re studying music production at University of the Arts London—does school take any joy out of your creative process, or do you like learning in that type of structured environment? Are you taking any unrelated courses that inform your music?

It’s a double-edged sword and you have to know what to balance. Most of the things I take away are abstract/random ideas thrown around in class instead of real stuff being told to me. Both help though—you can’t really break the rules if you don’t know what they are. I don’t really have the option to take other courses but I love learning so I find other ways to stimulate my mind on my own time. I’m really into this history podcast, right now I’m learning about piracy in the 1700s.

I love “4wheelpharmacy,” which recontextualizes hits like “Closer” by The Chainsmokers and “We Can’t Stop” by Miley Cyrus. Are you inspired by the sense of monoculture that pop music breeds, or are you more interested in disrupting it?

I have this hypothesis that the monoculture is dead. It was really strong when I was growing up—which is why I feel so comfortable using that era as a sample library. Listening to the AT40 when I was ten had a specific emotion to it that pop music lacks now. And maybe that’s because I’m older but I think the industry’s also changed with it—I love pop songwriting because there’s a predictability to it that makes you feel part of it. I’m interested in using that songwriting and applying it to a completely different structure, subverting that predictability at certain moments to draw you in and out of what you know while listening.

How do you decide which songs to cover? You have some singular takes on “Born in the U.S.A.” and “Why Can’t I?”

It’s usually any song that makes me angry that I didn’t write it. For me, making a cover is about translating how the song made me feel into new music. Like “Born in the U.S.A.” is such a big song—it just sounds grand and exceptional. Springsteen sings with this scream that hides vulnerability so I decided to whisper the lyrics because I feel that vulnerability in the grand scale of it every time I listen.

Have you ever considered sampling the actual sound that chalk makes?

Surprisingly no. I did consider making it a producer tag when I used to make beats but that was just weird and didn’t really work out. Maybe soon though.