For London-based producer and live performer 7XINS, music isn’t just about structure — it’s about tension, surrender, and sonic honesty. His new LP, One Knob Per Function, out on his own Severn Electronics imprint, is a fierce departure from the politically charged studio work he’s known for. Built entirely from live recordings, it captures a raw energy that blends physicality with philosophy.
We spoke with 7XINS about improvisation, intent, hardware rituals, and what it means to truly finish a piece of music.
Your new LP One Knob Per Function feels both intimate and forceful. What emotional or conceptual themes are embedded in this record?
The title One Knob Per Function came from my love for hardware that’s hands-on and immediate — no menu diving, just a direct relationship with the machine. That’s how I prefer to work, especially live. It keeps things fun, fluid, and responsive, which is key to how I like to perform. If you’re enjoying yourself, the audience feels it too. Unlike my studio work, which is usually more conceptually or politically driven, this album focuses on the energy of performance — the risk, the improvisation. Dance music is rooted in political expression, but it’s also about freedom and release. This LP leans into that side more. It wasn’t planned in advance; it came together naturally over a year and a half from live takes in club settings. There’s a rawness to it I didn’t want to lose. There are still layers though — some Blade Runner samples and artwork text that subtly reference themes of machines and control.
There’s a brutal honesty in the way your sound comes across — raw, textured, unfiltered. Do you see your music as personal expression or more of a physical experience?
Definitely both. I’m glad it comes across as honest — that’s crucial for me. A polished mix is important to many producers, and I respect that, but for me it’s always been about intent: “Have I expressed what I needed to in this piece?” That’s the question I care most about. I look for that same intentionality in other artists too. I want the listener to feel something emotionally and physically — ideally both.
You describe the release as “a document of control and surrender.” Can you expand on that duality?
That line captures how I approach live performance and hardware production. It’s always a balance — you control the machines, but you also let them lead. With modular gear, you’re constantly making choices, but surprises happen. You respond in real time. That’s where the energy is: steering the sound while reacting to it. Sometimes you lose grip, and that’s often when magic happens. That push-and-pull between structure and chaos is central to my creative process. I want things to feel human — slightly unstable, risky — not overly polished or safe.
Your sets at FOLD and Tresor have become cult moments. What does performing live offer you that studio work can’t?
In the studio, I often lean toward conceptual, immersive listening pieces, not necessarily club tracks. Ironically, some of that material ends up on dancefloors, but that’s never the goal. Live performance forces me to reshape those ideas into something physical, something that moves. The constraints and immediacy of a live setting push me into more stripped-down, responsive territory. You also get real-time feedback — the crowd shapes the music. And of course, the sound systems in clubs like Tresor inspire you to push frequencies and textures in ways that feel impossible in the studio.
The cassette format and gritty artwork feel like part of the message. How important is the physical medium to you?
It’s definitely part of the message. The gritty aesthetic is core to Severn Electronics. While digital releases are totally valid — and often the norm now — I still love having something physical. It’s a way for people to interact more deeply with the work. It opens up space to expand on visuals, typography, texture. It just makes the whole experience more exciting and complete.
Severn Electronics isn’t just a label, but a statement of intent. What values or vision does it stand for?
For me, everything comes down to intent. I’m drawn to artists who create full universes — who make you wonder, “Why does this sound like this? What’s the story here?” That can come through in visuals, track names, sonic textures — all of it. It doesn’t have to be “deep” for everyone, but I want the work to say something. With Severn Electronics, I’m building a catalog where music, art, and message all work together, even if the message isn’t immediately obvious. If it gets people thinking or feeling more deeply, that’s the goal.
You’ve said this release marks the end of a chapter. What questions are you trying to answer as you move into the next?
That’s a big one. I’m still figuring that out, honestly. But if I had to answer now, I’d say I’m exploring questions about finality — how do you know when something is “finished”? When is it time to let go and move on? Those are the themes I’m sitting with as I think about the next phase.

