This month one of techno’s grandest romantics Superpitcher, released his second album, Kilimanjaro.

One of Kompakt’s key artists and a vital figure in both the label, and minimal techno’s rise in the early noughties, Kilimanjaro marks the follow-up to 2005’s Here Comes Love, a breathless record that could’ve soundtracked a Bond film as easily as it could a Cologne dancefloor. In the second of our new ‘Five Minutes with’ series of short interviews, we discussed voodoo, mental breakdowns and more with Superpitcher.

Your new album, Kilimanjaro just came out. How did you approach it compared to your last album, Here Comes Love.

“Like doing Here Comes Love, it was a big struggle, endless drama, lots of work and a mental breakdown before I’ve reached the top of the mountain. I really have tried to get it done more smoothly but I guess it must be like this. Don’t cry, work!”

Arguably the main thing that makes Kilimanjaro stand out is your vocals. How do you approach singing compared to producing?

“Like producing and many other things, I do it by feeling and with the help of a bottle or two. I think that is the most important anyway, the feeling. I don’t give a shit about techniques most of the time.”

Are there any particular subjects or themes that you often find singing about?

“Love, love, love.”

You’ve said before that you jam a lot when it comes to making music… is that something you apply to your vocals, or is your song-writing process more traditional?

“It´s rather not traditional. I’m always writing into my notebooks and on post-it notes that decorate my house, then using them later, mixing everything up and jamming with it. I really would like to be a good songwriter.”

Are you going to take Kilimanjaro live?

“I´m working on it…”

What’s voodoo mean to you? Both that and black magic pop up in track titles on the album, and you talked about it in reference to your Resident Advisor podcast.