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A name any modern club kid would know, HARVEY SUTHERLAND has been dishing up explosive melodic-funk-meets-jivey-synth-loops for the better part of the last decade. Melbourne born and bred; Mike Katz was kind enough to invite me into his studio for a morning of digression upon process. As a long-time fan, I was extremely excited to be finding out more about what makes him tick.



A neurotically driven creative, Mike is the antithesis of someone who rests on their laurels. Rather, he welcomes the space that existentialism provides, and launches his talents full throttle upon it. The result is something few people with no formal musical training could produce. A former lawyer by trade, Mike was quick to quash any doubts he may have made the wrong choice by scratching his musical itch, “Law. I tried it, did it, simply wasn’t for me.” Lucky us!



Mike’s process, much like his music, is loop driven and serotonin inducing. As he describes it, “Anticipation, Repetition, Momentum, Addition and Subtraction.” A very surgical take on it, perhaps. Looking at things this way isn’t uncommon for Mike. The artwork for his recently released debut record BOY expresses his relation between music and neurosis. Fittingly, he loosely coins his genre of music ‘Neurotic Funk,’ tracks created from “an obsessional energy, a frustration in finding the funk.”  

To sit in on his studio session was an absolute pleasure. My inner desire to be a talented musician was very much fulfilled. As he fiddles with cables and sips the last of his mornings fourth coffee, the Juno 60 kicks into gear and suddenly we both find ourselves rolling along to a somewhat familiar yet rejuvenated loop. “This is great man; you’ve forced me to get something down.” What came at somewhat of a surprise to hear, I then took a moment to remind myself of all those hours dancing to his funky synth loops were the result of a starting place, and that place was here. His comment also resonated with me on a much deeper level, as most creatives would know, the page is often blank. Unsurprisingly, Mike echos my thoughts: “procrastination is my worst trait. I am trying to give myself less time to do things now. It seems to help.”



His awareness of what makes him tick and why, gives him the ability to take on as much as is thrown his way. “Of course, I’m excited for this year, live music is back, the clubs are back, and the record is launching.” Referring to BOY, which released April 29th. “Let’s see. I’m sceptical. You go through all these steps to arrive at this destination and then you think to yourself, I wonder if anyone will even see this? Is anyone seeing this?” Such are the times with everyone jostling for the eight seconds of someone’s dwindling attention span whilst mindlessly scrolling. The reality here being most artists, no matter how successful, still need to get information across to their audience, and until a new Silicon Valley brainchild reveals its head, we know Instagram is the dominant platform for this. Yet he seems to not let this affect his process, as we keep rolling along to the same uncut loop.



Like most Melbournians, I cautiously diverged from the topic of Covid and how strict lockdown laws almost killed the music industry. Yet like a moth to a naked flame, Mike needed no introduction. “The past two years have been horrible. Intense. I’m still coming to terms with where things are now. The government won’t be issuing any further assistance to the arts. That’s no shock however.” But it hasn’t just been lockdowns and a lack of funding threatening the industry. “I was meant to be interstate last weekend. The area where the stage was set to be flooded. It’s not the first time either. It feels like I’ve had equally as many shows cancelled due to climate change as Covid.”



As Mike transitions from one instrument to another, I manage to catch him passing under a gleam of light, reflecting off his studios kitsch but iconic disco ball, something I doubt previous residences of the space The Drones would have installed. I ask if he can take a step back and pause whilst I take his portrait. Having your portrait taken can be either a nonchalant and easy exercise, or like it is for most, an anxiety inducing and terribly awkward experience as you feel your mind escape your body looking back down upon yourself with insecure judgement. However, for Mike, a diagnosed neurotic, he fell somewhere bang in between. Neither relaxed and subdued nor shy and insecure, rather with a reflective gaze that hinted towards something along the lines of ‘Well shit man, you tell me.’ It’s perhaps this kind of energy that I’m expecting to vibe with once my copy of BOY arrives. A kind of neo anarchist take on what it means to be a modern musician, Mike reminds me of a boxer who takes a few heavy blows in the 6th but refuses to stay down. It isn’t the result which pulls him off the canvas, but rather a tether of stubborness to which masochism is attached.



You can listen to BOY here.