Liku.
Let the music breathe.
Liku on Singularity, unexpected turns and finding a shared release on Tirana’s dancefloors.
Liku
A live set is a conversation with a room; a recorded mix is a story he chooses to tell. Liku connects the two through curiosity. The Tirana-based DJ discusses the thread running through Singularity, an experiment with a precisely timed surprise, and the balance between listening to a crowd and trusting his own taste.
Liku is a DJ based in Tirana, Albania, and the host of Singularity. His recorded mixes and live sets explore deep atmospheres, hypnotic grooves and rawer sounds.
Curiosity as the connecting thread
What would you like someone to recognise as the thread connecting different editions of Singularity?
Well, the sound and mood might change not just from one episode to another, but even from one track to another within an episode, either gradually or through sudden shifts between high and low energy.
But something that stays consistent is that sense of curiosity. Constantly exploring new sounds and textures, and the intention to create a deep and hypnotic feeling. Sometimes it comes through spacious atmospheres and darker melodies, sometimes through a steady, repetitive groove, and sometimes through a rawer, more stripped back sound.
For me, it's about giving the music room to breathe, exploring unexpected directions, and seeing where it takes you emotionally. The tracks are carefully handpicked from artists and labels that keep bringing something new to the scene.
Each guest has room to experiment and bring their own perspective, but the thread is that feeling of getting drawn into the music and losing yourself in it, while discovering something along the way.
A turn at the 37th minute
Can you take us through an experiment in a recorded mix that changed your idea of what a set could be?
Sure. I once read an article claiming that hit songs use mathematical structures like the Fibonacci sequence and the golden ratio to create moments that trigger dopamine. The basic idea is that our brains crave patterns, but also enjoy something unexpected. According to the article, there's a point in a song where introducing something new can have a particularly strong impact.
The way it works is by taking the length of the song in seconds and multiplying it by 0.618. They called that the "Phi Moment". The perfect spot to drop something fresh and unexpected. They also claimed that the same timing principle is used in successful movies to place emotional peaks, like plot twists, explosions, or major reveals. In songs, it could be a synth or guitar solo, or a post chorus tag the listener wasn't expecting. I took it as something to experiment with, rather than an exact formula for how everyone's brain works.
After reading this, I tried applying the same concept to a recorded set. Except, instead of a 3-4 minute song, I adapted it to the length of the whole mix. For a 1 hour set, that's 3600 seconds multiplied by 0.618, which gives you 2224.8 seconds. Roughly 37 minutes and 5 seconds.
So, around that point in the set, I started to introduce something the listener wouldn't expect. The idea was to build a pattern and then interrupt it with something unexpected. I don't always do this but i give it a try from time to time.
What should the listener feel at the end that they didn’t feel at the beginning?
Listening to the mood of the city
You mentioned local events sometimes shaping your live selections. Can you share a moment when that connection changed the music you chose?
One moment that comes to mind was playing after some difficult news in the city. It was on my mind going into the set and jumping straight into something brighter and more energetic didn't feel right. So I leaned towards deeper atmospheres, darker melodies, and a steady, hypnotic groove, giving the energy more time to open up. It wasn't the moment to make a big statement. It was more about acknowledging the mood around us and gradually finding a sense of release together later.
A sound that stays with you
What encounter in Tirana's electronic scene has had a lasting effect on the way you think about music?
Like most cities, Tirana has an electronic music scene with a wide range of styles. What's stayed with me after years of listening and observing is how much authenticity stands out.
Some DJs play what everyone else is playing, while others have a sound you recognise as their own. Maybe it's just my bad memory, but I rarely remember sets that sound like most others. The ones that stick with me find that sweet spot between connecting with what the crowd enjoys and staying true to their own taste.
It's something I've taken into my own approach. Paying attention to the room while still trusting the music I believe in.
Moving feet and spirit
What would you most like to explore next through Singularity?
I'd like to explore how far the sound can move while keeping that thread of innovation running through it. I'm curious about the connections between deep, atmospheric passages and rawer, more driving sounds, and how those can sit together in unexpected ways.
I'd also like to invite more artists whose selections surprise me. Part of the excitement is hearing someone make connections I wouldn't have thought of myself. I want Singularity to keep being a space where both the guests and I can explore and discover, giving listeners something that makes their bodies move in unexpected ways while their minds drift somewhere they haven't been in years, or somewhere they've never been before.
Its main objective is to move both your feet and your spirit. There is something beautiful and pure about a music that exists for no purpose other than getting so absorbed in it that you lose track of time and just follow where it takes you.
Liku
Interview by email · Editorial and image art direction: SCENE:ID. @bb.art__design · @m.schick_