A.Paul Character Before Perfection

Styles come and go - that's something you inevitably witness after spending enough time in this scene. Trends get reshaped, sound design evolves because the tools improve, but the essence of a style usually stays the same.

Hardgroove was originally developed by Ben Sims, who built incredible records from recycled beats and loops, inspiring an entire generation of producers. It quickly became one of the most exciting directions in techno and won over DJs and dancefloors everywhere. I was deeply into it as well, and for several years it was probably the main sound I was producing and playing.

As always with techno, though, things evolve. I naturally moved into other territories that I also love. So it makes perfect sense that a new generation is now rediscovering hardgroove and finding it exciting again. I'm hearing a lot of quality releases, and I think many producers genuinely understand what made the style work in the first place.

To me, hardgroove today sounds remarkably close to how it did when it first emerged. The producers who really get it aren't just copying the surface elements - they understand that it's about creating relentless groove through layered rhythms, often built from recycled house percussion, with subtle movement, tension and creative breakdowns. It's a style that relies on rhythm more than gimmicks.

Of course, there are different shades of hardgroove. Some tracks lean darker and more hypnotic, while others are more energetic and playful, incorporating recognizable vocal snippets or samples from different musical genres. That's always been part of its DNA. What matters isn't whether it sounds old or new, but whether the groove feels natural, drives the dancefloor, and has the personality that made hardgroove so special in the first place.

Yes, each label had its own identity and purpose, although together they reflect different stages of my evolution as an artist and label owner.

The first one was Squeeze Records, which I founded alongside two other Portuguese artists, Ricardo Ferro and Paulo Wogz. It became the first Portuguese techno label, created mainly as a platform for national talent. We released several records and CD compilations, and even today many people remember it as a landmark in the history of Portuguese electronic music.

After a few years, I felt I needed a space dedicated to my own productions, which led me to create Onh.Cet. Unfortunately, around 2001, our distributor closed down and I had to put both projects on hold.

Everything changed in 2005. Beatport had just opened, digital distribution was transforming the industry, and after years of experience I had built a solid network of contacts. It was the right moment to start again. Naked Lunch was born, followed by Parallel 125 for my more minimal and experimental side, Dirty Ego for a tech-house approach, and LK Music, dedicated exclusively to my productions under the L.K. alias.

Later, vinyl made sense again, especially after I co-founded MPC Distribution with Cisco Ferreira (Kombination Research) and Michaelangelo (Labrynth Records). Through MPC, many of these labels found a new life on vinyl while continuing to exist digitally.

So, rather than being different versions of the same label, each project had a clear artistic direction and a specific role. Some of them are still active today and continue to receive great feedback.

As for unfinished ideas, I don't really see them that way. If I feel inspired by a concept from the past, I have no problem bringing it into the present. Good ideas don't have an expiration date - they just need the right moment and the right context. My latest project, Theorum, which I run with my good friend Lisa Oakes from the UK, is another example of that mindset: always looking forward while carrying the experience of everything that came before.

After listening to demos for so many years, you develop an instinct for it. I can usually tell within a short time whether someone is simply reproducing a sound that's already out there or whether they have their own artistic identity.

For me, techno needs to bring something fresh to the table, or, if it's working within an established style, it has to be exceptionally well crafted. Technical quality is important, but it isn't what makes a record memorable. What really stands out is when a producer has their own way of building tension, programming drums, arranging a track or creating a groove. Those are the details that reveal an authorial fingerprint, even before the production is perfect.

I'm also willing to overlook certain imperfections if I can hear genuine potential. Every artist goes through a learning process, and I don't expect new producers to be at their peak from the beginning. Sometimes a track has rough edges, but there's a unique energy or personality that would be lost if everything were polished to perfection. I'd much rather hear something with character than something technically flawless but anonymous.

One of the things I've always tried to do through my labels is give opportunities to new talent. If I believe an artist has something original to say, I'm happy to be part of that journey and help provide the platform for them to grow.

I try not to overthink or intellectualize my creative process too much. My love for techno is immense, and one of the things I enjoy most is being able to explore its different shades. Every new project starts with a feeling rather than a formula. It depends on the mood I'm in that day and where the music naturally wants to go.

I don't consciously think in terms of adding or subtracting elements to create intensity. Sometimes power comes from layering sounds, sometimes from stripping everything back, and sometimes simply from letting a groove evolve over time. The track itself tells you what it needs. Experience teaches you to listen to that instead of forcing an idea.

I think one thing many younger producers tend to exaggerate is the need to make everything bigger, louder and more intense all the time. They often confuse power with density. But in my experience, the strongest moments usually come from contrast, tension and restraint. If everything is at maximum energy from beginning to end, there's nowhere left for the music to go.

More than anything, I believe it's important to stay true to yourself rather than making music with the sole purpose of pleasing other people or following the latest trend. Otherwise, you're not really creating art - you're just reproducing a formula. The records that stand the test of time are usually the ones that reflect the artist's own vision, not what they think the market wants to hear.

When I look back at my career, I feel I got many things right, although there are certainly aspects I would approach differently today. The music industry has changed enormously. The way you build an artist's career now is very different, with the influence of social media and the sheer scale that electronic music has reached over the last two decades.

One thing that has always defined me is my productivity. I've released more than 2,500 tracks and over 100 vinyl records, and I'm proud of that body of work. At the same time, I sometimes wonder whether being more selective with my releases might have created a different perception of my catalogue. That's a fair question to ask myself.

Another important lesson is that no one builds a lasting career alone. I've been fortunate to work with some incredible people who helped me reach a higher level, but I've also experienced partnerships that weren't the right fit and probably limited what I could have achieved. That's simply part of any long career.

As for my reputation, I think the part people get right is my consistency. I've dedicated my life to techno, not just as a producer and DJ, but also as someone committed to developing labels, supporting new artists and helping the scene grow. What I think is sometimes overlooked is the breadth of my work. Because I've explored so many different shades of techno over the years, some people associate me with only one period or one sound, when in reality I've always enjoyed evolving and challenging myself rather than staying in a comfortable formula.

In today's world, branding and storytelling often receive as much attention as the music itself. I understand that's part of the industry now, but I've always believed that the work should speak first. If there's one thing I'd like people to remember about A.Paul, it's not a narrative or an image - it's a catalogue built with passion, consistency and an honest love for techno. And despite everything I've done so far, I still feel I have a lot to give.

For me, techno has never had boundaries, and that's something I've always tried to reflect through Naked Lunch. From the very beginning, the label was never about chasing trends or fitting into a specific category. It was about releasing music I genuinely believed in, whether it came from an established artist or someone nobody had heard of.

That philosophy hasn't changed. Even though today's industry is different as you state, I would still make the same "irrational" decision of signing a great track simply because I believe in it, regardless of whether it fits the current trend or has obvious commercial potential.

A label should have an identity, but that identity shouldn't become a prison. For me, Naked Lunch's identity has always been its openness - its willingness to embrace different shades of techno as long as the music is honest, well made and has something to say.

At the end of the day, trends come and go, but good music lasts. I'd rather take risks and release records that I truly believe in than compromise the label's vision just to satisfy algorithms or short-term market expectations.