The Swedish Musician with a Sixth Sense for Sound

HUR CONVERSATIONS

May 13

Written By Bonnie Langedijk

Yukimi Nagano

The Swedish Musician with a Sixth Sense for Sound

In partnership with Chanel

By Bonnie Langedijk

Yukimi Nagano doesn’t just follow intuition — she makes art from it. As one of the founding members of Little Dragon, she’s spent the last two decades shaping a sound that doesn’t belong to a single genre—earning the Swedish band a cult following, Grammy nominations, and collaborations with artists like Gorillaz, SBTRKT, and Kaytranada. But Nagano stands out not just for her sound, but for her resistance to outside pressure. She has navigated the music industry on her own terms, balancing experimentation with consistency, and managing to evolve without ever diluting the core of what she does. Her work has soundtracked runways, underground clubs, and solitary late nights, marked always by that rare quality: emotional clarity inside sonic experimentation.

In a world obsessed with polish and performance, Yukimi chooses process over perfection, presence over approval. Call it instinct, call it freedom, or call it what it is — chance. To mark the launch of CHANEL CHANCE EAU SPLENDIDE, HURS sat down with Yukimi Nagano for an interview on taking risks, creative reinvention, and the quiet power of chance. The conversation accompanies a wider campaign by WaxPoetics—the film is now live on WaxPoetics.com—exploring themes on taking a chance between leading women in the music industry.

Bonnie: Do you believe in serendipity?

Yukimi: It's hard to say. Looking back at it, I feel like everything made sense. You have your own feelings about your past and your own experiences that you pull from. I feel like everything happens for a reason.

You're launching your solo album in four days.

Yukimi: It's a big step. I'm really excited.

Did your creative process change when you were working on your solo album versus working on music with Little Dragon?

Yukimi: It's different in the sense that when we're with the band, everyone's really involved. There are more chefs, which is the uniqueness of the four of us together. But I think in the case of doing a solo album, it's just me and Erik, the producer, so there are less colors, more similar tones. I've really enjoyed keeping songs pretty raw and not overworking music too much.

What's your process like when you work? Is it very planned or is it more improvised?

Yukimi: Definitely not planned, but I have a way of doing things. Usually music comes first. I write very spontaneously. Sometimes it starts from listening to a track, and sometimes it starts from sitting with somebody who's playing the piano or a guitar and just writing in the moment. I like both ways [of working]. The system is to write music and not think so much and to not be in the head space of judgment. Is it good? Is it bad? I save that for later when I'm picking and choosing my songs and thinking about how to finish producing them. In the beginning stage, it's about being in touch with a gut feeling.

“The system is to write music and not think so much and to not be in the head space of JUDGMENT. Is it good? Is it bad? I save that for later when I'm picking and choosing my songs and thinking about how to finish producing them. In the beginning stage, it's about being in touch with a gut feeling.”

It's more about output than getting it right?

Yukimi: Exactly that. I think that if you write a sentence and you're wondering if it's good, you are going to be stuck forever. It's about trying everything and anything.

If you're someone who at some point has to present your work to others, whether you're a musician or a painter, the creative process becomes limited once you start thinking about the audience or the industry.

Yukimi: I think it's very confusing if you do. This need to create has to come from a deep inner place. If it's being done just for the sake of doing it rather than for the sake of play and experimentation and food for the soul or whatever you want to call it, you could easily get lost.

I think to be able to create, you need breathing room. Today, it feels like everyone's always on the lookout for what's next, what's new.

Yukimi: It's a very confusing time. I've never felt so much like a product before in my life, in my career. As an artist, you are the product in a sense. It can get very tangled because you have your ego attached to it. It's not like trying to sell a box of cereal, you know? I try to separate those two worlds. Now, as I'm promoting an album, you have to dive into that world a bit. But, when I write music, I try to not think about anything other than that. When I started releasing music, we had MySpace and it was very minimal and now it's all over the place. It's easy to get really absorbed. You're getting so much input that you can get paralyzed. I try to use social media more to put my stuff out there. Less scrolling and more just posting.

You're either a creator or a consumer. Being an artist today is about more than just music. It's about the visuals, the performance, the aesthetics and the atmosphere around the artist, the band. How do you approach that world building beyond music?

Yukimi: I've always been a collaborator. It's a beautiful opportunity to meet people outside of your own creative sphere. Especially when it becomes a really close personal relationship with someone who becomes the visual expression for an album. I have a lot of respect for people who are deep into their craft.

You have your own ideas about what an album is, what it means to you, and then to get another person's lens on it must be a really interesting dialogue from a creative perspective.

Yukimi: A hundred percent. People absorb music, with their ears in their eyes. When you see a show, it's the energy on stage, it's the presence, it's the clothes, it's the vibe.

That's why I've never truly understood reviews. Whether it's about a movie, an album or a new TV show, it's such a personal experience. I wonder if we should criticize art.

Yukimi: Don't get me started. This is a subject that's very close to my heart. It's not sports. My 9-year-old likes to listen to the Minecraft song. He's vibing, and dancing and loving it, who am I to take away that experience from him? I can say what I think is good or bad, but it's a relationship you have to the music that's yours and that's that. Sometimes a lot of people like the same thing and sometimes you're alone in that place, but ultimately it's always your own experience. That's what I love about writing music too. You write a song from your own world and then people interpret it and it's going to mean something completely different for them.

This isn't just the music industry, I think this is the world in general. The media plays a big role too, as they love to put labels on people or products or work in general, in the pursuit of defining it as a singular thing. Have you ever experienced that?

Yukimi: It’s very helpful to feel strongly about what you are. The more you understand that someone's writing is just one person’s perspective and that it's nothing more or less than that, it gets easier. If it's not constructive, you have to let it slip off of you. With time, you understand that people are on their paths and even journalists have their need to express themselves creatively. They have an opinion and they have an ego as well. We're all just trying to do our thing.

The ego thing is real. Does anything in your creative work still feel like a risk or taking a chance because you have such a clear view of who you are as an artist?

Yukimi: The clear view is the sense of having to create, but what the outcome is going to be that’s forever changeable and depending on whatever's happening in my life. The only thing that is clear is that as long as I have a consciousness, my soul wants to create and write music. It's been a very deeply rooted thing for me since I was a child. I definitely try to experiment. I sometimes try to scream, I try to sing softly. I try to sing beautifully. I try to sing ugly. I try to sing like people I admire. I try to be vulnerable. You're all over the place just testing different things and not being too concerned about what is me, because the fun thing is to see what I can be today.

But I think, especially in the world we live in today, to take the risk to be not perfect or sing ugly as you said, or not try to aim for beauty all the time, whatever beauty means, definitely takes some balls, you know?

Yukimi: I think the beauty of being creative these days is that most people can have a laptop with a computer and keyboard. The sky's the limit from there. It's not like you have to have loads of money, you don't have to have a label or rent a studio anymore. You can literally be writing songs every day. And once you do that, then you have space to be courageous and be experimental because otherwise it won't be fun. You don't want to just replicate yourself. You want to see where your edge is. Most people do, I'm guessing anyway.

As you said earlier, it's about output in the beginning and then you can fine tune later in the creative process, but in the beginning it's just about trying and not being scared about how it lands, I guess.

Yukimi: Being scared comes from wanting approval. Everyone has that person, my man is that person for me. Sometimes I'll play a song and he won't be thrilled about it or he will be thrilled about it, and it always affects me. Sometimes I feel like it's great, and I'm thinking, oh, he doesn't get it yet. That's kind of how music works too. When you play music for people, where are they at? Are they thinking about other things, are they talking while they're listening or are they asking something while they're listening? Are they present or not present? Is it somebody they love who's playing it for them? All those things play a role in how you take in the music.

Some things take time to connect with you on a personal level. Does that mean the final track always remains a surprise?

Yukimi: It's not like I'm going out in the woods and knocking on ice and recording it. I could definitely be more experimental in that sense. I have a studio in Central Gothenburg and a bunch of instruments there. Sometimes I'll just sit in my room and write stuff and just accumulate thoughts and really give time for reflection and time for myself. Time to gather ideas and I need that space as well. So it's not always just writing songs. Sometimes it's just like, where am I at?

And that's so hard to get today, to create space to just be.

Yukimi: Really hard, but important.

What are your hopes for the future of the industry?

Yukimi: Something that was very valuable to me growing up, were these youth centers where you could have free rehearsal rooms and could meet up. It was a space where you would have that connection with each other, and it was such a powerful thing. It's a great way to spend your time as a teenager. I think, at least in Sweden, they've cut down on a lot of it. I'd like to see more spaces for youth to have that place to be creative and to make music and to be free together. It's about connection and there's nothing that I could recommend more for anyone who wants to start a band.

It's a space that’s non-performative, it's just play.

Yukimi: Exactly. Anything that has to do with actually making music and less with becoming a star and having a career, is important.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.