Listening to Paul Louis Villani’s new EP, The Other Side of Silence, feels less like pressing play and more like cracking open a locked diary found in a derelict building. It’s a messy, confrontational, and deeply private affair, where industrial-strength riffs grind against lyrics that feel surgically exposed. Villani doesn’t write anthems for crowds; he seems to be recording the dissonant hum of his own nervous system, wrestling an identity crisis into submission through sheer sonic force.
There is a beautiful brutality here. The soundscape brought to mind, of all things, one of Piranesi’s prison etchings—grand, impossibly vast, and built entirely from shadows and despair. This isn’t just angst; it’s a full-blown existential audit set to the clang of a metaphysical forge. But the EP’s real magic trick is its ultimate refusal of comfort. Villani finds no neat answers. Instead, he leans into the chaotic burn, finding a strange, terrifying solace in the heart of a toxic fire. This collection isn’t a map out of the wilderness; it’s the sound of someone realizing the wilderness is home, learning its language, and finally starting to howl back.
To understand the mind behind this brutal and honest work, we had the privilege of speaking with Paul Louis Villani about the process, the pain, and what truly lies on the other side of silence.
General & Thematic Questions
1. Your EP is titled “The Other Side of Silence” and your bio says you create “to excavate truth from silence.” What does that specific “silence” represent to you, and what “truth” are you bringing to light with this collection of songs?
Silence can be sanctuary or it can be a burden. For me it was both. It’s the weight of things you can’t say, the things no one wants to hear, and the stuff you choke down because you’ve been told it’s too raw, too ugly. This EP is me letting go of the burden. The “truth” I’m dragging out isn’t some neatly packaged revelation it’s scars and life experiences turned into sound.
2. The press kit describes this EP as a “journey of resilience, defiance, and transformation. “Could you walk us through how that journey unfolds, from the confrontational energy of a song like “Fighter” to the epic, transformative conclusion in “Stuttering Verities”?
“Fighter” is me spitting back at the world. The first verse sums me up really well at the moment. Feelings of not being in control of my own destiny, being a slave to a system that works relentlessly against you and everything you were meant to be. Then you go through the middle passages where faith collapses, desire fractures, identity splinters. By the time you reach “Stuttering Verities,” the transformation isn’t pretty; it’s brutal, but it’s mine. The EP is an eloquent but violent way of me answering the daily question of “How are you going today?”… in real life, I answer, “Just living the dream”… The music is what truly is me.
3. Your work is noted for being “fiercely independent” and for “refusing the spotlight of live performance. “How does focusing solely on the studio as your creative space allow you to build the “darkly cinematic” and “sonically daring” soundscapes found on this EP?
For a person to walk away from the stage when it’s one of the most comfortable places for me to exist is not easy. That decision fucks with my inner peace every single day.
The studio is now my freedom. Every day it’s literally a blank canvas. I don’t have a style, band or other musicians in mind when I’m writing. Now it’s purely selfish. Now, there are no boundaries, no expectations, no dramas. It’s just me and 95% of the time it all begins with a guitar in my hand.
4. The EP features a variety of vocalists on each track. Could you tell me who they are and if you write your own lyrics?
I always write all lyrics. I will admit most of the time my lyrics are not uplifting or focused on flowering daffodils or sunsets but they all come from a place of honesty and truth. Vocalists! This is where purists will most likely throw up in their mouths. Too bad, so sad, grow the fuck up and realise that there were people like you clinging to their typewriters in 1994 vowing they would never use a computer or Microsoft Word to write a report! Morons!
This EP has been a huge leap into the world of AI and how it can assist with one part of the creative process – vocals. Here is a space that divides opinion and sends eyes rolling back inside people’s heads! This I truly find encapsulating and absorbing because it is the use of AI in the vocal space “the straw that breaks the camel’s back”?
Let me explain… No one in my 30-year span of releasing music into the digital world has ever asked me, “What drum machine did you use to replace a drummer (a human)?” or “What synthesiser did you use to create orchestral parts (replacing the need for human string sections and brass or wind, etc.) for that song?”, or have I ever asked (as a human guitarist), “What midi programming or synth did you use to create the guitar rhythm or lead part?” But, here we are, and I’m getting at least 5-6 emails a day from DJs or reviewers asking why I haven’t listed a collaborator or singer’s name.
When I tell them that for four of the songs on this EP, I sang (recorded) the melody line, uploaded an audio file into an AI subscription paid tool and had my (crappy) voice changed into what you’re hearing now – sounds simple, but there was a lot of tweaking and prompting to get to a final result. Then, about 80% of the time, I get replies of complete backlash and negativity.
I had an Italian DJ tell me to “Get that AI rot outta my inbox”! I also had a couple of webzines refusing to mention the release because of the use of AI for vocals. So, as pathetic as I feel some of those opinions are, everyone is entitled to have an opinion. But, before more people pass negative judgment on me and doom me into a black hole of creative shame and endless condiment, let me ask some questions.
I’m not going to give you my opinion, as these need to be answered by readers of this interview:
1. Why, for the past 40 years, has it been ok for studios to use a multitude of rhythm/drum machines to replace drummers/percussionists on records/CDs? Are they not important as human beings? Is a singer more important as a human than a drummer?
2. Midi has been used to replicate almost every instrument on some recordings. Mostly keyboard/piano or string arrangements. So, is a human singer not ok to be replaced by machinery, but it is ok to replace other human musicians (violinist, harpist, etc.) with a digitally programmed music tool?
3. Why, over the past 35-40 years, has it been ok for the above-mentioned human musicians to lose money by not being used in a recording studio, but now that vocalists may have their pockets affected, it is an issue?
4. Why is it ok for a solo human vocalist to perform live to backing tracks (most likely recorded with midi/synths) and not receive criticism for not hiring and paying human musicians for the job instead?
I’m super easy to find on most socials, if you want to give me some logical and not abusive responses to those questions, I’ll be more than happy to have those conversations!
Track-Specific Questions
1. “Cathedral of the Dead God” is an incredibly raw deconstruction of faith, with potent lines like “doubt was sin, but sin was the only honest part. “What was the emotional or philosophical catalyst for writing a track with such a powerful and unflinching message?
I went to Christian Brother Colleges for most of my education here in Melbourne. I was so lucky to have not been touched by these vile creatures (not all are were vile but they all did stay quiet while kids were being destroyed physically and mentally) and I only got to see small bits and pieces of abuse and only found out later about the brutality some class mates suffered and we had no idea. The Catholic Church, for me, is a cesspool of lies, extortion, destruction and outright blasphemy. I now find the belief of any faith an ignorant choice by weak human beings who cannot look within their own selves for the right and wrong things to do in life. We are already slaves to a corporate system in life and people need even more chains around their emotional wellbeing and life choices?
2. In “Soldier Girl, you write, “Everyone I know hides when they have to glow / so they’re left alone / unlike me I like to set things free.” How does this idea of embracing one’s ‘glow’ or true self, even when it’s confrontational, connect to the overall theme of artistic sovereignty on the EP?
Some people hide (or dim down) their light because shining sometimes gets you punished by jealous pathetic types. “Soldier Girl” is about refusing to dim down, standing in your glow even if it blinds others. That’s artistic sovereignty to me: refusing the “leash”, even if it costs you friends or safety.
3. “Fighter” contains the lyric “detonate your intellect lay amongst the debris.” This is a fascinating and violent image. Is this about destroying one’s own limiting beliefs, or is it a challenge aimed at an external adversary?
I mentioned it earlier that this song came from a place that I hate about myself. I always conformed to society’s most common acceptable ways to survive. I got loans, I bought cars, I always found jobs to pay for the loans. I was the reliable one, in every facet of life, always. It eventually weakens you, angers you, makes you question why you didn’t just do life the way others did. Everywhere I’ve existed, there’s always a “list of cunting fools” that just make life unbearable but you got bills son…
4. The lyrics in “Can I Be Your Secret?” are deeply vulnerable and provocative, especially the refrain “can I be your whore.” How do you use such stark, emotionally exposed language to explore the complex themes of desire, power, and internal fracture mentioned in the track’s description?
Because I’ve experienced all of it. Polite adjectives don’t cut deep enough. Desire (in my experience) isn’t neat, it’s messy, degrading, liberating, frightening. That track is about exposing the fracture between wanting connection and fearing annihilation. To say “whore” in that context is to own the shame and the power at the same time.
5. “Endless Skies” feels like a journey into the self, with lines like “my true self’s hard to define” and “navigating the skies / no map in hand.” How does this metaphor of aimless, cosmic travel represent the psychological exploration you’re undertaking in the song?
I’m that person that answers “Me” when someone asks, “If you could, who would go to space?” So, writing these lyrics was just me opening up about the journey it took to get here. Sometimes Identity feels like floating in endless space, trying to define yourself with no coordinates. Aimless travel becomes the exploration itself and sometimes you learn more drifting rather than arriving.
6. The final track, “Stuttering Verities” is described as a “7-minute opus” and a “final act of total transformation.” It starts with feeling like a “tangled mess” and ends with defiance. What transformation is taking place, and why did you choose such an epic, operatic structure to tell that story?
So, if you’ve made it this far into listening to this EP or any other one of my tracks, each song metaphorically tells a story (lyrically and sonically) and this song encapsulates my writing style really well. The song starts tangled, broken. By the end it’s defiance carved out of collapse. The operatic sprawl was necessary as some stories can’t fit in three minutes. Any transformation (mental or physical) isn’t quick, it’s exhausting.
Process & Influence Questions
1. Your bio mentions the vivid memory of Jimi Hendrix as a key influence. How does that initial spark of sonic rebellion and performance art translate into your work today, which is described as “boundary-pushing” but is intentionally not performed live?
Jimi was chaos, rebellion, and fire on stage. I don’t perform live, but I carry his spirit in how I treat sound, distorted, unchained, unafraid to burn down rulebooks and safety nets. My rebellion is in refusing the stage itself.
2. There’s a powerful tension throughout the EP between intellectual concepts—philosophy, existential dread, belief systems—and raw, visceral emotion like rage and lust. How do you balance these two sides, the philosophical and the primal, in your songwriting?
Easy. I don’t separate them. Rage is philosophy. Lust is philosophy. When I write (lyrics or music), it’s not apart from the ideas, it is the idea. The balance comes from refusing to sanitise either side.
3. A recurring theme seems to be a fractured or uncertain identity. We see it in “Soldier Girl” with “my complexion is a vacancy” and in “Stuttering Verities” with “a fading dream caught between wrong and right.” Could you elaborate on this theme of a fragmented self that runs through the record?
Yeah, because I’m fractured. I fuck my own intellect over via adaptation, survival, years of trying to fit into boxes that never fit. The lyrics you mention here are what I see in the mirror daily… what a fucking joy that is.
4. The EP blends genres from metal-core and doom to indie-rock and experimental drones. On a practical level, how do you decide which sonic palette—a heavy riff, a haunting atmosphere, an operatic vocal—best serves the lyrical story of a particular song?
This is going to sound like a dumb answer, but the songs and the sonic palette really just write themselves… they are just there. You can’t force these things into existence; they exist somewhere within me and just require a canvas and time. My next release coming in November has Hip Hop, Funk and Rap/Rock adventures all over it… I don’t know why I wrote these, but they just came out of me, and you can’t hold them back… they deserve time to shine.
5. In “Cathedral of the Dead God”, you end with the line ”I am the Echo now and I don’t forgive.” What does it mean to become “the echo,” and why was it crucial for that statement of unforgiveness to be the final word?
In my long journey on this planet, for every person who has done me right, there have been two people who have fucked me over. I express unforgiveness in a calm, often unspoken yet unending way.
6. You state, “This EP is therapy, memory, fire, and collapse… and yet somehow, it uplifts” For a listener who might be going through their own collapse or wrestling with their own silence, what is the ultimate feeling or message of empowerment you hope they find on the other side of this record?
That you’re not alone in the wreckage, collapse, or failure isn’t the end; it’s part of the transformation. If there’s any “other side of silence,” it’s this: you can crawl out bruised and still scream, still create, still always be trying to exist on your own terms.
