A journey through sound, memory, and imagination.
Northtribe is the creative project of Swedish musician John Ekström, a journey that began in the 1990s with a piano and NES game melodies and grew into a lifelong passion for electronic music. From early trance and goa experiments in FastTracker II to atmospheric productions in Propellerhead Reason, Northtribe has evolved across several eras — Nostalgia, New Era, Ostendo, Study Phase, and now Upprisa. Each chapter has shaped a sound rooted in trance, techno, and psychedelic storytelling. Today, Northtribe bridges past and present, honoring its origins while moving forward with new music, livestreams, and visual projects.
Explore the full story below.
It all began with a piano and an old TV. As a kid, I taught myself to play by ear — sitting at the piano in the hallway while NES games like Mario, Zelda, and Metroid played in the living room. I’d turn up the volume, wait for a melody I loved to loop, then rush back to the piano to hunt for the notes until it sounded right. Those simple, repeating game melodies became my first teachers.
That obsession with sound and melody slowly grew into something bigger. I didn’t know it then, but these moments were the spark that lit my lifelong passion for electronic music.
In 1996, a TV commercial introduced me to Teknomaker, a basic sampler program. I bought it the next day and got my first taste of arranging loops and beats. Not long after, a friend showed me FastTracker II — and everything changed. For the first time, I could shape every note, every sample, every detail. A whole new world opened up, and from that moment, I was hooked.
When I discovered FastTracker II in late 1996, everything changed. For the first time, I had a full creative playground — and by spring 1997, I had finished my first complete track.
This was also when the internet began to take off in Sweden. I discovered the growing tracker and demoscene communities through early forums and magazines like TEKNO, where I connected with like-minded artists and friends. We shared our songs as .xm and .mod files across boards and servers, trading ideas and inspiration.
During this time, I produced under the alias Cream, exploring trance, goa, rave, and ambient sounds. In 1998, I joined my first tracker group, Future Beats, a collective of artists releasing music together under one banner. Later that year, I moved to PlastiK, where I stayed until the group disbanded in 1999.
After PlastiK, I adopted the name Pisces and began releasing music on mp3.com, reaching a wider audience beyond the tracker scene. That period came to an end in 2001, when a major computer crash interrupted my production and forced me to take a break from music.
One highlight of this era was when my track “World of God” was featured on the CD compilation Trancepotting 2 in 1999 — a milestone that meant a lot to me at the time.
The Nostalgia era laid the foundation for who I am as a musician. It shaped my sound, my workflow, and the creative drive that still pushes me forward today.
In late 2000, I discovered Propellerhead Reason and instantly connected with it. Moving from sample-based trackers to virtual synths, effects, and even cable routing was a huge leap. For the first time, I wasn’t limited to pre-made sounds — everything could be shaped from scratch.
Some of my friends from the tracker scene made the same move to Reason, but the landscape was shifting. Platforms like mp3.com and Trax in Space, where I had shared my music, began shutting down. With those spaces gone, I mostly shared tracks with close friends and family. It became more of a personal journey than a public one.
Reason’s sequencer changed how I worked. Coming from the step-by-step pattern view of FastTracker II, I could suddenly see the whole picture. My sound evolved too — more trance-driven, more atmospheric, and more refined. I was especially drawn to melodic trance, psytrance, and goa, which also matched the underground raves and DIY parties I was going to at the time: forest clearings, warehouses, and basements filled with hypnotic beats.
Docklands, one of Sweden’s legendary rave clubs, was also a big part of those years. It was there I experienced unforgettable shows from artists like Astral Projection, Infected Mushroom, Juno Reactor, and even Tiësto — nights that left a lasting imprint on my sound.
It was also during this time that I adopted the name Northtribe — a creative reset as I stepped deeper into the world of synthesizers and structured production. The name was inspired by the tribal and cosmic aesthetics of the Goa Trance scene, especially projects like Space Tribe whose music and clothing left a strong impression on me. Being from the North, the name felt natural — a fusion of identity and sound.
Between 2003 and 2006, while studying at university, I wasn’t releasing music publicly anymore, but Reason still played an important role. For one project, my group created an informational video for the university, and I composed the full soundtrack. The video played on loop in the school corridors, which was a unique way for my music to reach the public, even if it wasn’t under my artist name. At the student pub, I sometimes heard my own tracks played on the dancefloor system — just fellow students hanging out, but still a special moment.
Eventually, this era too ended abruptly. Another computer crash brought everything to a stop in 2008, and I found myself taking another year-long break from music.
After a year-long break, I bought a new computer and returned to music as soon as I could. The creative drive was still there, and I picked up right where I had left off in Reason.
Like the New Era, this phase wasn’t about public releases or building an audience. I wasn’t uploading to platforms anymore, but I shared occasional clips of new material on my website. It was a quieter return — creating for myself, driven by curiosity and the simple joy of shaping sound.
I didn’t compose as much as before, but I had grown as a musician. My mixes became tighter, my arrangements more thoughtful, and my overall sound more professional. I explored progressive house and trance more deeply, blending rhythmic structure with emotional flow. The ideas kept coming — often as short loops or sketches — but with limited time, finishing tracks became harder.
Music fit into the spaces life allowed: evenings, weekends, or short, focused bursts. Each new version of Reason added more tools and instruments, helping me push my sound further, even in those small windows. Reason remained my core production tool throughout the entire era — and still is today.
Music has always been part of my daily life. Since the moment I touched a piano as a child, barely a day has passed without it. For me, it’s more than a passion — it’s a meditation, a way to stay connected to something deeper.
I later named this period Ostendo — a time of quiet expression, where the music may not have reached the world, but it was still alive and evolving.
By the end of the era, my Dell gaming laptop could no longer keep up with the demands of newer versions of Reason. The software advanced, my ideas grew, but the hardware held me back. Over time, the frustration wore me down, and I slowly drifted away again — taking another break, this time for about a year.
Even though I wasn’t producing much music during these years, I wasn’t idle. After buying a new, more powerful laptop in 2018, I found myself shifting focus — not because I lost interest in music, but because I had hit a wall.
After years of creating on my own, frustration had started to build: my tracks didn’t sound like the professionally released music I admired. Everything I knew was self-taught, and while the ideas were there, the results never reached the level I was aiming for. That disappointment became a turning point.
Instead of forcing more output, I stepped back — and began to study.
I spent countless hours on YouTube tutorials, deep-diving into mixing, mastering, sound design, and production. It wasn’t glamorous, and it wasn’t fast, but it was necessary. I was determined to understand what made professional tracks sound the way they did — and how I could get there myself.
Even if I wasn’t releasing music or finishing full songs, I was laying the foundation. Quietly building the skills and mindset I would need for the next chapter.
After years of learning, refining, and quietly evolving, 2023 marked the beginning of a new chapter — a creative resurrection. This was when everything started to come together. I began finishing tracks that had sat in my archive for years, releasing music from the Nostalgia, New Era, and Ostendo phases with fresh perspective and polished sound.
But this time, it wasn’t just about making music — it was about building a foundation. I modernized my old website, organized my catalog, and began sharing my work publicly again through platforms like YouTube and Spotify. Step by step, I started shaping what Northtribe truly means — not just as a name, but as a long-term creative vision.
This era has been about connecting past and present. Honoring where the music came from, while finally bringing it into the light. The old tracks are no longer just memories — they’ve become part of something living.
At the same time, I’m looking forward. New music is on the horizon. Livestreams, mixes, visual projects — all the pieces are in motion. For the first time in a long time, the momentum feels real.
I call this era Upprisa — a Norse word meaning resurrection, or rising again. After the crashes, the breaks, and the years of silent growth, this is the moment of return.
I don’t create music for fame or recognition — I do it because it’s who I am. Music is how I express myself, how I stay connected, and what I want to leave behind. Upprisa isn’t just a return; it’s a commitment. A decision to give time, focus, and energy to Northtribe — not as a hobby, but as a lasting part of who I am.
– John Ekström / Northtribe