A Chat With Koentakhinte About “When You’re Not Here”
Q: Hi! “When You’re Not Here” has such an intimate, stripped-back feel right from the first few seconds. When you sat down with an acoustic guitar to write this one, did it come together in one sitting, or did you have to sit with that idea for a while before the song found its shape?
With “When You’re Not Here”, the lyrics came first. After that, I spent a long time searching for the right guitar part—not something that would draw attention to itself, but something that would give the words enough space. The question I kept returning to was: how can the music carry the message as honestly and clearly as possible?
Q: The track touches on that surreal feeling where the world just keeps spinning as normal, even though everything on the inside feels completely different. Was there a specific moment or a mundane everyday thing that triggered that thought for you?
The song grew out of a personal experience that led me to ask myself these questions afterwards. Life keeps rushing forward while you are forced to stand still for a moment. At first, that felt painful and almost unreal. Later, that same movement became reassuring: life does not wait for you, but eventually it carries you forward again.
Q: You’ve mentioned before that you prefer starting songs with a question rather than trying to hand people neat answers. Is it hard as a songwriter to step back and let the listener fill in those blanks, rather than spelling out the exact backstory?
No, for me that feels very natural. Although my songs often grow out of personal experiences, ultimately they are not about me. I want to leave enough space for listeners to recognise something of themselves. Over time, I have developed a certain sense of responsibility in that regard—not to tell people what to think, but to invite them to pause for a moment and perhaps discover something within themselves. Especially now, when so much in life seems fleeting.
Q: Arrangement-wise, you kept things really restrained here. Were there ever versions of this track where you tried building it up with bigger instruments or a full band, or did you know right away it needed to stay minimal?
I deliberately kept the arrangement very restrained. From the beginning, I felt that this was where the song’s strength would lie. More instrumentation might have filled the silences between the words, whereas here those silences are just as important as the music itself. I have already received many responses from listeners who recognise themselves in the song’s message. That confirms to me that this was the right choice.
Q: Visually, everything you put out around your music is strictly in black and white. Beyond just looking sharp, what is it about stripping away color that feels right for the mood of these tracks?
For me, black and white removes some of the visual noise. It helps create a direct connection with the viewer, without colour steering their attention in a particular direction. That reflects what I am also trying to do with my music: create space for connection—with another person, but perhaps even more importantly, with yourself.
Q: Your previous track, “Quiet Colors,” dealt a lot with trying to hold onto who you are when everything around you wants you to fit in a neat box. Looking at “When You’re Not Here,” do you feel like this song is coming from a similar head space, or did it feel like a totally new direction for you emotionally?
I think all my songs ultimately revolve around the emotions that something awakens within us. In “Quiet Colors”, the pressure comes from outside: the way other people see you can diminish the freedom you feel to be yourself. In “When You’re Not Here”, that uncertainty arises through the absence of someone whose presence has become part of your world and your identity. The circumstances are different, but perhaps the same question lies beneath both songs: what remains of you when your relationship with the world around you changes?
Q: These tracks are all part of your ongoing Quiet Stories collection. How do you know when a song fits under that umbrella versus something that might belong to a different project down the line?
Almost all my songs begin with a question, so they naturally find a place within Quiet Stories. That is a very conscious and important choice for me, because these are questions I genuinely ask myself. I usually keep my personal answers to myself—not because they are secret, but because my answer is no more important than the one a listener discovers within themselves.
Q: After taking a long break from releasing music, what was the hardest part about getting back into the swing of putting your stuff out into the world again? Has the process changed much for you since your Conservatory days?
The musical landscape has changed dramatically since my conservatoire days, and I do not mean that only in a negative sense. With the arrival of streaming services, the traditional gatekeepers have lost some of their former hold. At the same time, new and independent artists have gained far more opportunities to share their music directly with the world. Despite everything I did earlier in my life, I see myself as a newcomer all over again in this environment. That makes it exciting, but above all, a wonderful new challenge.
Q: Your sound weaves through a bit of folk, Americana, and indie-pop while keeping the lyrics right at the center. Who were you listening to around the house or in the car while working on this single that might have quietly nudged its vibe?
Most of my creativity comes from within, and often from silence. I write best when I have not consciously listened to other music for a while. Of course, I still carry many influences with me. I regularly listen to artists such as Matt Simons, Ed Sheeran, Gavin DeGraw and Gino Vannelli. Their sense of melody, lyrics and dynamics undoubtedly joins me at the writing table from time to time, often without me even noticing.
Q: Once a track like this is finally out and people are putting their headphones on to listen, what do you hope someone takes away from it when they’re sitting alone in a quiet room with the song?
This is very much a song to experience through headphones, preferably while reading the lyrics. That is when the small nuances and the space within the arrangement come through most clearly. More than anything, I hope that when the song ends, someone remains still for a moment, recognises something of themselves in it and then thinks: I want to hear that again straight away.
Q: Now that “When You’re Not Here” is officially out in the world, what’s next for you for the rest of this year? Are we looking at more singles dropping, live shows, or spending time tucked away in the studio?
I am already working intensively on new material, and there will certainly be more singles. For now, my focus is mainly on writing, singing and working in the studio; that is where my strength lies. It is an intense but deeply rewarding process. When I first heard the finished version of “When You’re Not Here”, tears were running down my face. The heart-warming responses I am receiving now give me the strength and motivation to keep following this path. Life is beautiful.
