COVER FEATURE – Mr. OFFBeat – Issue 051 – Zone Magazine –
FEATURE INTERVIEW – Mr.OFFBeat – Zone Magazine – Issue 051 – Cover Feature –
Groove-led electronic soul with jazz roots and disco pulse, Mr OFFBeat is the solo project of Xabier Garayalde — producer, DJ and multi-instrumentalist known for his work as one half of Kyodai and co-founder of Wagon Cookin’.
Over the years, Garayalde has built a respected presence within the global underground electronic scene. With Kyodai, he toured internationally and performed at venues such as Fabric (London), Panorama Bar (Berlin) and Blue Note (Tokyo). Their track “Breaking” was featured on the official soundtrack of Grand Theft Auto V through Gilles Peterson’s Worldwide platform, extending their reach beyond the club circuit. His work has consistently received support from artists including Gilles Peterson, Laurent Garnier, Osunlade, Jimpster and Masters At Work.
Mr OFFBeat marks a deliberate artistic focus. While rooted in the soulful and jazz-informed foundations that shaped his earlier projects, this chapter pushes further into groove architecture, disco-driven momentum and harmonic detail. It’s electronic music built with warmth and musicality, yet crafted with the physical impact required for the dancefloor.
The first release under the Mr OFFBeat alias arrived on Atjazz Record Company, establishing the tone of this new phase. This was followed by releases on Local Talk and a prolific run of eight singles last year, consolidating his position within the global soulful and organic house movement.
With a new release on Well! Well! Records set for March, Mr OFFBeat enters his most focused and forward-looking stage — bridging classic sensibility, disco energy and contemporary production with renewed independence.
Mr. OFFBeat isn’t presented as a new beginning or a comeback. How would you define this moment in your career?
I define it as a point of crystallization. It’s not a reboot, because everything I’ve experienced musically travels with me. But it’s not a continuation on autopilot either. It’s the moment when my artistic vision and my studio technique speak exactly the same language, without intermediaries. There’s a clear alignment between instinct, experience, and execution.
After so many years in shared projects, what changes when the creative responsibility is 100% yours?
The biggest difference is the focus and the mental silence. I continue to work intensely for other artists as an arranger and conceptual producer, even sometimes as a ghost producer. That keeps me technically sharp and broadens my musical perspective. But there, my role is to translate someone else’s vision.
With Mr. OFFBeat, there’s no translation or aesthetic negotiation. The freedom is absolute, and so is the responsibility. If something fails, it’s mine. If something connects emotionally, the satisfaction is direct and pure. The signal goes from instinct to listener unfiltered.
Would you say that Mr. OFFBeat is a synthesis of everything you’ve learned or a refinement?
It’s a refinement. Synthesis accumulates; refinement eliminates.
I retain the essential language of my sound—rhythm, warmth, texture—and discard the excess, the decorative layers, and any element that doesn’t contribute to the emotional core of the track. The essence remains.
You’ve spoken of groove as a philosophy. What does it really mean to you?
Groove is the vital pulse. It’s not perfect quantization or impeccable programming. It’s friction: the invisible tension between elements that forces the body to react.
As a philosophy, groove means anchoring music to the physical before aspiring to the intellectual. If you don’t move first, it will hardly elevate you later.
When you start a track, does everything originate from the rhythm section?
Absolutely. Kick drum and bass are the foundation. If the interplay between kick, hi-hats, and bass doesn’t work on its own—if it doesn’t make you nod your head—no other instrument will save it. My sonic identity resides in that primary rhythmic space.
In an era of hooks and drops designed for immediate impact, you work from an architectural perspective. Is this a conscious choice?
Completely conscious. The hook seeks impact; architecture sustains meaning.
I prefer to build a structure that supports the entire emotional journey rather than relying on a single adrenaline rush. I want the listener to inhabit the track, not simply wait for it.
What’s the difference between a track that “works” and one that breathes groove?
A track that works is functional: it survives through volume and formula.
One that breathes groove has internal dynamics. It engages with the listener. It subtly generates tension and release. It remains when the club lights come on.
Is groove technical or cultural?
It’s cultural first. Technique gives you tools—micro-timing, swing, precision—but groove is born from lived experience. From how you move. From understanding the Black roots of dance music.
The machine can simulate swing. The human groove is transmitted.
After playing in different international contexts, what cultural learnings have shaped your understanding of rhythm?
Traveling teaches you that rhythm is universal, but it has dialects.
Polyrhythms breathe differently depending on the culture, just as the rigid pulse of industrial cities has a different energy. That contrast taught me to balance discipline and fluidity. And to respect silence: the space between beats is often more powerful than the beat itself.
What challenges you most today: harmonic sophistication or rhythmic depth?
Rhythm is my native language. I studied classical percussion and mallets, grew up playing drums in my father’s jazz quartet, and later delved into the African American tradition. Percussion is instinctive for me.
Precisely for that reason, what challenges me most today is harmony. In the studio, the piano and keyboards are where I visualize the musical structure. Harmony demands more conscious work, but it also brings me greater satisfaction. I seek increasingly rich progressions, balancing complexity and beauty.
Rhythm is the starting point. Harmony is the destination.
When did you know this project had a real direction?
In the studio. There was a session where I stopped forcing ideas and simply followed my instincts. Everything started to connect naturally. That’s when I understood it wasn’t a side experiment, but a main focus.
Is there a defined roadmap for the alias?
I have non-negotiable aesthetic principles. Within those boundaries, the evolution must be organic. Over-planning stifles the art. The true roadmap is written by studio hours and the honest response of the dance floor.
How do you balance house, jazz, and soul traditions with contemporary aesthetics without falling into nostalgia?
By understanding that house, jazz, and soul are attitudes, not museum pieces.
I take their harmonic and emotional richness, but I sculpt it with current mixing techniques and an awareness of the sound system. I respect the roots, I produce for the future.
Nostalgia is a trap. Intention is timeless.
Do you produce with more intention than you did ten or fifteen years ago?
Absolutely.
Before, experimentation or technology could dictate the final result. Today, intention precedes action. I know the sonic and emotional destination before recording the first take.
Has your studio methodology changed?
Yes. I’ve embraced functional minimalism, also in terms of equipment.
Before, I accumulated layers and tools. More machines, more plugins, more options. I believed that breadth was synonymous with depth. Today, I need much less. I’ve reduced my setup to the essentials: the tools I truly know inside and out and that respond to my intention seamlessly.
The same applies to arranging. I’ve gone from opening 40 tracks and keeping almost all of them, to starting with many and ending up with less than half. If a pad doesn’t add real tension, it disappears. If a percussion piece doesn’t drive the groove, I eliminate it even if it’s perfectly produced.
I work with greater phase awareness, sculpting frequencies with precision and allowing silence to breathe within the track. I’ve come to understand that depth is not density.
Before, I built by accumulating. Now I build by reducing.
Are you more interested in the club track or the complete emotional journey?
They shouldn’t be at odds. But I prioritize the emotional arc.
The club amplifies the collective energy, but a great track should also hold up in intimate listening, at home, with headphones.
Does today’s audience listen to the groove or consume it?
The industry pushes for fast consumption and immediate impact. But in the scene I move in, it’s still listened to.
When the groove is authentic, the body responds without faking. You stop consuming and start feeling.
What role does craftsmanship play in a fast-paced, digitized scene?
Craftsmanship is the necessary magic.
In a culture of presets and templates, dedicating time to shaping an analog synth, humanizing tempos, or designing your own textures is what leaves a mark. It’s the difference between reproducing and creating something unique.
In five years, what should Mr. OFFBeat represent?
A guarantee of consistency and quality.
That upon seeing the name on a poster or vinyl record, one expects authenticity, structural precision, and an unwavering groove.
Define this moment in a single forward-looking sentence.
I don’t chase the immediate; I seek to create music that doesn’t belong to an era, but to a feeling that can outlast time.
