Malmström is controlled chaos. Melody in free fall. A sonic identity living between tension and release.

Raised on a collision of worlds, folk songwriting and new wave electronica, Malmström’s foundation is equal parts structure and emotion. Childhood meant Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell, and music always on. Then electronic music arrived, bumping in the back of his parents’ Subaru. New Order. Moby. Fatboy Slim. The Postal Service. Groove met feeling. Rhythm met introspection. Something clicked.

Music has always been the constant. A childhood filled with lessons, violin, guitar, piano, tuba in band, and parents with wide, impeccable taste turned him into the aux-cord guy. The playlist guy. Making a playlist for someone, or receiving one, still feels sacred.

Before streaming, it was Apple Music, LimeWire, and The Pirate Bay. Endless nights digging through the internet, downloading anything he could find. He fell in love with groove, texture, and samples chopped and rearranged into something new. At the same time, pop-punk and alternative shaped the emotional core. Blink-182. Sum 41. The Story So Far. Urgency, melody, and raw honesty defined how songs should feel, not just how they move. That influence still runs through the project.

His first laptop led to GarageBand. Then Logic. Then Ableton. That was it. Hundreds of hours alone in a third-floor bedroom, learning by trial and error, chasing better drums and stronger ideas. He was always hesitant to share. It never felt finished. Never perfect enough.

Life took over. Music became private, then paused altogether. For five years he didn’t open his laptop studio. He sold the gear. He stayed a fan. Concerts, playlists, constant connection through music, just not creating.

Now, drawing from a deep mental archive spanning pop-punk, metal, house, and melodic electronica, Malmström creates music that is physical and human. Driving rhythms. Emotional synths. Moments that push and pull without fully resolving. Everything lives in the space between tension and release.