Interview: Aggrotech Band, CLOCKWORK ECHO

Clockwork Echo is the Denver-based project whose style can most appropriately be described as “aggrotech”. They spent a significant part of the last couple of years touring with the likes of Hocico, Psyclon Nine and SKOLD. Gabriel Ryan is the founder of the project and was kind enough to answer a few questions for us.

Hello Clockwork Echo. Thanks for taking time for our interview today. It’s been a bit since your last single, “Hallowed Be Thy Pain”. What’s been going on since then?

Ah, yes. My triumphant reemergence into the spotlight of your earholes. Between that last single and now, I’ve been pondering the greater cosmic meaning of guitar riffs, meticulously rearranging coffee mugs in my kitchen,
and trying to figure out which part of the world I forgot to offend on tour. You know, the usual trifecta of creative self-reflection, domestic chaos, and mild infamy.

Let’s dive into the single a bit. Where did the inspiration come from and can you give us a hint what the source of the main sample in there is?

I could say it was a vision I had while astral-projecting in a cave lit only by LED disco balls, but that’d be too honest. Let’s just say I tripped over some old vinyls, got half-conscious, and woke up with a chord progression that wouldn’t leave me alone. The sample? Let’s call it a secret handshake between me, a broken transistor radio, and a vacuum cleaner from 1972. Listen closely—if you can hear the faint hum of regret and old dust, you’ve
got your answer.

You’ve toured extensively and have done some “one offs” over the past couple of years. What would you say the best experience, the best audience and the biggest challenge was out of all those times?

Best experience? The moment I realized you can’t actually fall off the stage if you lean just right—defying gravity is quite a thrill. Best audience? Probably the one that collectively wore earplugs and yet still managed to
scream at the top of their lungs for an hour straight. Biggest challenge? Staying awake in a tour vehicle that rattles like a dying lawnmower for 16 hours without losing your sanity or your ability to string words together in a
sentence.

Do you think, having issued a single now at a time when more bands are doing the same thing, you will continue that pattern or do you feel you will do another full-length album?

Singles are the new black, aren’t they? Everybody’s doing it—like making artisanal cold brew or posting cryptic quotes on social media. I might release another single just to watch the world tremble in anticipation, or maybe I’ll drop a 53-song avant-garde concept album that plays in reverse if you sneeze at the right moment. Who knows? The future is wide open, and I enjoy chaos way too much to make any solid promises.

Has anything changed on a technical level in your studio? Any new software or hardware? After hearing the single, the production sounds more crisp and the vocals, a little different.

I replaced all my knobs and faders with genuine, vintage typewriter keys for that authentic “clickety-clack” vibe. I also discovered a new plugin that allegedly harnesses the power of obscure Finnish polka to enhance fidelity—
works wonders on the vocal range. As for the vocals being different, well, that might be the result of me gargling exotic teas and chanting Latin phrases backward during warmups. I’m a bit extra these days.

Other than what I mentioned about forthcoming music, what else have you got planned for CWE in the near future?

Let’s see… I’m considering starting a curated line of leather jackets for pet iguanas. Really top-shelf stuff for the discerning reptile. Perhaps a cameo appearance in someone else’s music video where I do nothing but stare at
the camera with a sense of existential dread. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll release another twisted lullaby under the CWE banner. I like to keep our fans guessing (and occasionally concerned).

Your music has a very distinct feel where it seems that there’s a mindfulness to not just put parts in certain areas but also knowing when NOT to put parts. There are some distinct breaks before resuming the intensity or depth. I’m curious about your musical inspiration in that regard.

Nothing says “artistry” quite like awkward silence at precisely the right moment. Those breaks are where I pause to consider if my equipment is about to spontaneously combust—or if the audience is. It’s about tension
and release, like pressing pause on a rollercoaster when you’re dangling upside down. My inspiration? A healthy dose of cinematic drama, the slight fear of hitting a wrong note, and a love of making people hold their breath
just a second longer than they should.

What comes to mind regarding the phrase “anti hero” when you think about CWE’s legacy?

Imagine a tarnished crown at a carnival—the big top’s on fire, the ringmaster’s asleep, and the clown’s telling you off in a corner. That’s the anti-hero vibe we go for. Imperfect, a little scuffed up around the edges, but
somehow charismatic enough to keep you from leaving the circus early. I want our legacy to be that odd spark in the dark where people think, “This is wrong, but it feels so right.”

These last words are yours. We greatly appreciate you taking time today.

Oh, last words? How dramatic. Let’s make it count: “Stay inspired, stay irreverent, and always tune your guitars… except when you don’t.” There, that feels appropriately cryptic. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go tune
my coffee maker—it’s been sounding a bit flat lately. Cheers.