In 2009, I wrote my graduation thesis titled “From Playback Machine to Musical Instrument: Studies on the History of Composing with the Turntable.” Shortly afterwards I began my solo project under the alias DJ Hashimoto, through which I explored the possibilities of the turntable on multiple levels. DJ Hashimoto dwells on the shining putrefaction of frozen data and the skin-traumas of the medium. The project can be understood as a cyber-shamanistic catabasis, positioned somewhere between data-necrology and the dazzling geometries of post-narrative structures.

Here, the turntable is regarded as an undead machine, imbued with the necrophilic intimacy of anonymous dreams and discarded meanings — a musical instrument through which one can investigate hidden details and forgotten traces within seemingly familiar musical objects.

Instead of a typical DJ setup with two turntables, I tend to work with a single turntable, extended through various noisemakers, effect-machines, prepared guitar, and/or custom Max patches. Some DJ Hashimoto performances also include visual components, such as circuit bent 8-bit games worm-eaten by terminal glitches or vintage adult-game animations drowned in pixel-error slime.