Finland’s Jori Hulkkonen “the most underrated producer in the world.” After all, not many people can say they have worked on music for such a diverse portfolio of people. Chromeo, Kid Cudi, Robyn, and Lydia Lunch are just some of the names that sit alongside bands like Sister Flo, Villa Nah and NightSatan as well as electronic legend Tiga. Since his debut release in 1993, Jori Hulkkonen has travelled the globe. With each country comes the opportunity for Jori Hulkkonen to blend his take on house and techno. All fuelled by an insatiable curiosity for future sounds that simultaneously have a profound understanding of its past. With his return to My Favourite Robot later this month we invited Jori Hulkkonen onto our Tour Baggage series, to ask about life on the road.
The city I would love to move to one day…
I don’t regret a lot of things -at least not yet. Plenty of time for that later. I’ve always lived in Finland, and although I’ve spent some longer periods abroad and love certain cities home has always been here. The cost of living in Finland may be one of the most expensive in Europe, but Finland still holds up pretty well when it comes to the basic things in life. This ultimately frees up my time to focus on the music. You don’t really have to worry about a lot of things here. It is easy-going, safe, and the scene is pretty nice here, these days at least.
However, sitting here, in the “happiest country in the world” (third year in a row now, no less) during lock-down, I have begun to think should I make an effort and relocate somewhere when this madness is all over? The fact that at this age I’ve never lived abroad, especially in this line of business, seems a bit absurd. For anyone that knows me, I have an obsession with all things Italian, so I’m open to suggestions. Anyone reading this in Italy with a nice flat available, don’t be afraid to get in touch.
The last place to blow my mind was…
Back in 2018, I visited South Africa for the first time. I was very fortunate to have an amazing promoter hosting my 3-week stay. In addition to fantastic gigs in Johannesburg and in the outskirts of Cape Town, I was treated with some five-star safari action. This was easily one of the most incredible experiences I have had to date. Hanging outside by the fire on the savanna or having a morning coffee with a bunch of giraffes. Zebras walking past within touching distance these experiences are something I can honestly say were life-changing.
I never get on a flight without…
I was just talking about this with some friends. In the ’90s when I first started to DJ internationally it was such a different world. In addition to packing 20kg of vinyl with you, you had to make sure to take some CDs for your Discman. As well as books, printed travel documents, itinerary etc. On top of that, if it was a live gig, it became even more complicated with the luggage. Clean clothes were a luxury on the rare occasion they would fit.
In the early 2000’s I bought a portable DVD-player and was travelling with Star Trek TNG, DS9 and Voyager DVDs. Then at some point, Sony PSP took over, and converting DVD’s to files was something I did for hours and hours before heading off to play for the weekend. Whereas these days all you need is your phone, USB-keys and headphones. I’m totally fine with reading books on the phone display but have to admit I’m more into listening to podcasts when travelling. More so than music. So basically I just need to download some podcasts to be able to listen on aeroplane mode.
The most surreal thing that’s ever happened to me while travelling was…
This happened sometime in the early 2000s. I’m not sure of the exact year. I had been to Irkutsk, Russia a couple of years before to DJ and it had been super nice and quite exotic as well. It is not far from the Mongolian border, deep in Siberia next to lake Baikal, and the promoter could not have been any friendlier. When asked if I’d like to come back again I was definitely up for it. When asked if I wanted to play the night before in a city named Chita, around 1000KM further east, I was totally up for it.
After an 8 hour flight, I finally arrived in Chita and was greeted by the promoter. He didn’t really speak English not that this was an issue. As we left the terminal and headed to the car park I was greeted by a deluge of Soviet-era Ladas, Trabants and other eastern block cars. All of which had long past their best before date. On the horizon, in the middle of all of them was a giant black Hummer. No prize for guessing who it belongs to? I hopped in the car, and to my surprise next to the gear shift was a shotgun. “For safety”, the promoter said, laughing as we drove off.
A short while later we arrived at what turned out to be both my hotel and the venue. This I initially thought, was handy. As it was the middle of winter there were some snowmobiles parked outside and we made our way over to the desk to check-in. I checked into the hotel with the promoter, who then walked me to my room, gestured me to step inside and said: “it’s not very safe.” He closed the door and locked it from the outside. Slightly alarmed by this, I checked my trusty Nokia phone. This was back when the world was not yet connected and I couldn’t get any signal. These were different times.
Tired after the flight, I just wanted to get a few hours of sleep before the gig, but at the same time realized this hotel room was the sleaziest I’d ever had the displeasure of staying. there was no chance I’d step in the shower. The bed which had no mattress was pretty disgusting as well. I was left no choice to skip freshening up. Instead, I chose to curl up wearing my outdoor clothes on the slab of veneer with nothing but a few blankets as protection.
After some sleep, I woke up to someone knocking on my door. Weirdly I was unable to open it from the inside, but it turned out my host had come to take me for dinner before the gig. The young man assigned to see to my needs released me from my room, and we took an elevator down to the restaurant. When flicking through the Russian-only menu, I mentioned I was a vegetarian. This resulted in confusion and laughter and plenty of Russian-only jokes between the waiter and my translator-host. “It will be fine”, I was assured. While we waited for our food, the young man said he was anxious to move out from Chita to Europe, Berlin perhaps, as everyone kept calling him “a faggot” as he had long hair. It was then that I noticed that the venue/hotel/club where we were, was a local brothel. Hence why it was safer for me to be locked in my room. Finally, the food arrived, and a bowl of strawberries was served to me with complimentary giggles. First I thought it was a starter, then that it was perhaps a joke, but eventually, it was clear it was my entire dinner. And then, back to my room.
Again, knock on the door, “it’s showtime!”
My host takes me downstairs again and through a door into the club. Unfortunately, he’s not allowed to enter as in his words, “he knows too much.” The bouncer takes me to a table next to the stage where there’s a full-on striptease-show well underway. Although not an expert on the art in question, when there are no more clothes to be taken off, I thought it was a fair assumption that I would be up next. “One more artist before,” says the promoter, who has come to oversee the proceedings. Turns out that a stand-up comedian is doing a small set just before me. The place is pretty packed and the guy seems to be doing a good job judging from the audience. As he comes to finish his set the spotlight swings towards me with a point of the finger and the whole club begins laughing hysterically. “Play now!” instructs the promoter.I walk up on stage and start playing some deep funky house. I did at the time, and people seemed to be enjoying themselves.I’ve always felt safest behind the decks. That evening that had never been truer. People danced, and it was almost like any other club night.
After my two hour set, the bouncer takes me backstage. I’m introduced to the promoter’s friends: more 50-year old over-weight alpha-males; the local banker, the mine-owner, the oil-millionaire etc. The air was filled with cigar smoke and testosterone, neither to my liking. Fortunately, I was offered some whiskey to cut the edge a bit, which I’m sure by this point was evident. As they were all sat doing some exotic drugs, served to them by 16-year-old girls wearing barely anything. While waiting to get my fee, things started to escalate, and suddenly one of the guys had an idea: “Ok Jori, now we go shooting in the forest!” As you can probably guess I was not particularly excited by the prospect of going out in the middle of the night in mid-Siberian-winter, to shoot (at what?). I quickly made my excuses about tiredness and just wanted to be locked in my room. Luckily, things started to get a bit confusing for them, so no-one seemed to mind after some initial objections.
My flight out was pretty early in the morning but still a few hours away. Nevertheless, I decided to get a taxi to the airport and just wait it out in there, so I called the reception who came and let me out of my room so I could get a cab. I wasn’t sure what the receptionist was trying to tell me, but I was soon to find out: when I got to the airport, it was closed for another two hours. Not wanting to go back to the hotel/venue, I decided to rough it out and waited outside freezing. Eventually, I got to the airport, got to one of the dodgiest plane rides ever, from Chita to Irkutsk, a small, possibly old military plane, with no seat belts, and some chickens and goats in the back. When in Irkutsk, I was taken to my hotel which felt like the most luxurious hotel I’d ever been in, although it was probably just some basic Holiday Inn -level room. But it had room service, and a bathtub, so the happy ending with this story has me sitting in a bathtub eating a pizza Margherita, just happy to be alive.
The most unique place I’ve ever played was…
In the 90’s I lived in a city called Oulu up in the northern parts of Finland. This was when I was at University before music took fully over. I lived there in a student dorm for 8 years, sharing the kitchen and showers with 7 other people. In that small room, I had my studio where I recorded my first releases, including my first albums for F comm. I have very fond memories of that small space and the studio set-up. This was an important part of my life as my whole life changed as my career became serious.
I moved from Oulu to Helsinki literally on millennium-eve. Then, some ten years later, the building where I had lived was hosting some sort of anniversary, and they invited me to DJ in my old room. The small room I knew so well was filled with someone else’s belongings, but the view from the 8th floor towards the sea was as mesmerizing as ever. The room was packed with students -it was still a dorm naturally – and the party was pretty great. Quite a surreal time warp, though.
My Lost in Translation moment…
In the late 90’s my friend Laurent (not Garnier), a Frenchman who used to work at the label F comm in Paris, moved to San Francisco. In those days, I’d do the annual pilgrimage to Miami Winter Music Conference. It was the perfect place to hook up with other DJs, producers, labels, distributors and promoters, giving and receiving the latest promos. The music was great, and every party you’d go to, you’d know someone. Pretty much everyone that worked in the industry went. The parties were intimate and the clubs were crowded, often too packed. In 99 (I think) I had spent a week prior to WMC in New York, recording with Alexi Delano. Post-Miami I headed to San Francisco as I had a couple of gigs and a lot also of free time.
It’s that one strange time in your life when you feel like you’re living in a movie. Especially this one night my friend Laurent got us invited to a classic American student party. It was at this big house where every room looked like a stage-set that was filming for some lame teen comedy. It was nothing extravagant, nothing spectacular and no incident worth mentioning happened. However, 20 years later I find myself often thinking about that particular party -and my stay in the Bay Area in general. I’m sure it’s an age thing, but there was a certain innocence in that pre 9/11 times. I know this is not the crazy party lifestyle-DJ -story people want to read, but I guess it fits my music pretty well.
