Open Tracks

On the tropical island of Bali, Nidhi Gupta discovers a new way to holiday. Have you tried the make-cation yet?

- Nidhi Gupta

I think we have it,” exclaims Damian Saint, his nose stuck to the Mac screen, with a triumphant slam of the spacebar. “I might even sell this song!” It’s a summer afternoon in Bali, and W Seminyak’s music curator has taken it upon himself to squeeze some actual music out of us, a ragtag bunch of Asians and Australians who’ve signed up for his masterclass. We’re chilling inside the hotel’s brand new recording studio, the Sound Suite. Saint has handed us kalimbas, djembe drums, calungs, flutes. And instructed that we “just play with them” into a mic, one by one. Last up, he ordered me to the Monome – the 40H version – a milky white, minimalistic hardware controller. “Just hit some buttons, man,” Saint nudges.

“We keep complicating stuff,” Saint continues in his clipped British accent, as he chops, loops and stitches samples of all that we’ve recorded. “But it’s the really simple notes that always work. It gives you space to mix things up.” With some digital wizardry, courtesy Ableton – a nifty piece of software – all those isolated twangs and bangs come together and begin to sound like music. Part gamelan, part new-age electronica: Our song’s turned out pretty damn exotic.

The Sound Suite is a professional-level recording studio. Three rooms, one each to record, write and relax in, with soundproofed walls and graffiti throwbacks to a Seventies Coca-Cola ad campaign. The equipment is drool-worthy: Native Instruments gear, Moog synths, Pioneer turntables (the DJ-spinning kind), percussion and wind instruments of all kinds. But why is all this here, inside this swanky resort in Bali’s posh expat outpost?