
Ater the review of IANANA, “I Wish I Had A Basement” (Live at the International Noise Conference in 2026), IANANA – we spoke to leader Yeats Goodwin in a bit more depth about their roots in the Miami scene, what the project means to them, and their hopes for the future…
“Emerging from Miami’s deeply unstable but stubbornly resilient underground scene, the project channels the hostility and emotional scale of experimental metal without relying on the genre’s usual machinery. Instead of guitars carrying the weight, the music is built from sample manipulation, granular synthesis, and dense Ableton processing, producing something that feels simultaneously mechanical and wounded”
Your music feels caught between destruction and precision. How do you balance chaos with intentional structure when building a track like “I Wish I Had A Basement”?
I’ve always been into music that feels like it’s on the verge of falling apart at any moment, whether it’s extreme music or jazz or even something like The Police. This track began as basically a noisy ambient piece, which is how writing works for this in general. It’s a series of chord changes I liked with long drones and lots of space. There’s a lot of dissonant intervals, and the processing happening on the instrument is emphasizing it, but it always resolves to something more open. I think the feeling you’re describing was already present in that early larval version of the song, but the challenge was then translating that to rock. I really wanted the drums to complement and enhance all those little moments in my initial demo, but this was actually deceptively hard. My drummer Rob and I spent an unhealthy amount of time iterating those parts. But it seems like where we ended up has created the right effect. And everything that followed was a little easier. A little.
The article compares your use of electronics to an extreme metal guitarist shaping tension and release. Do you consciously approach sound design with a “riff mentality,” or did that connection emerge naturally?
The sound design element is its own thing, and I had no experience with it until this project. That ends up being more time consuming than actually writing a song. The bones of a song come together quick. It feels very similar to how I would write for any instrument, so I do kinda think of them as riffs. I was very encouraged seeing artists like Uboa, Machine Girl, Fire-Toolz, even Death Grips, use electronics to make heavy music, but I get the impression all those amazing artists have strong backgrounds in electronic disciplines – Industrial, Jungle, etc. I feel like I’m just forcing Ableton to behave like a rock instrument haha. That’s a result of my own ignorance, but I’ve been enjoying the results.
There are traces of black metal, noise, ambient, and experimental jazz in the project. What artists or records most directly shaped IANANA’s sound in its early stages?
My favorite artist is Kayo Dot, an experimental, sometimes-metal band that has been around since the early 2000s. If you’re a fan, you’ll know that trying to sound like them is an impossible task, but I always wanted to write something that made me feel the way that music does. Our track “I Wish I Had a Basement” was an early indicator this music was headed that way. I did go to Philly to see them perform Choirs of the Eye with my longtime friend and IANANA collaborator Nick Mendez (A Family Portrait), and writing for this project began in earnest very shortly after. On the electronic side, I love Tim Hecker so much. His music was definitely a guiding light for me as I fumbled my way through the dark in Ableton, not knowing what an LFO was. Those two discographies are the primary ingredients, for sure. In my head they’re much more alike than not.
The unreleased jazz recordings from Yeats Goodwin’s father add a deeply personal dimension to the music. What was emotionally difficult — or rewarding — about transforming family recordings into something so abrasive and fragmented?
On the one hand, using my dad’s music was a pragmatic decision. I had so much of it and I knew that I’d probably have fun messing around with a saxophone or a fretless bass in Ableton. On the other hand, I’m sure I understood it would make the music about him in some way. The music can be ugly and sad, but I feel great playing it. It’s honest, so I don’t have any regrets about using his material this way. I did have a funny and uncomfortable experience manipulating my mom’s voice sourced from old home videos. That was the line. I could not use her voice to make my hell music haha. I closed the session and never looked back.
The review describes the samples as “trying and failing to return intact.” Was memory loss or distortion something you intentionally wanted listeners to feel while hearing the music?
I think that’s a cool reading. When working with samples, I think some version of this conversation is unavoidable. In this case, because my dad is no longer on this planet and hasn’t been for a long time, there’s a bit more to turn over and feel through. In practice, I followed my ear and pulled at the threads that most excited me. But maybe the idea of memory loss is in there somewhere. I wouldn’t remember, would I?
Themes like childhood trauma, suicide, hauntology, and Floridiana decay hover throughout the project without becoming literal narratives. Why is abstraction the right language for expressing those ideas?
This is something I think about a lot. Personally, I just enjoy music most when it’s not telling me exactly how to feel or what a specific thing is about. Abstraction is a great way to make a statement, but still invite the listener to color the song with their own meaning. Because I love this music though, I am trying to challenge myself as a lyricist, and that involves digging deeper and discovering things I’ve really needed to say. The more I place from my life or environment into the song, the happier I am with the results. It’s a fine line that I’m still learning how to walk.
The atmosphere of the recording feels tied to Miami itself — unstable, humid, collapsing, haunted. How much does the city shape the emotional and sonic identity of IANANA?
I’d say my drummer Robert King (Bardo) is the one with the Miami bona fides. There is a distinct, slippery and angular Miami sound, and Rob cut his teeth in so many sick Miami punk/grind/noise projects. I knew that was the sound I wanted for the drums. Zooming out, I could honestly talk about Florida forever. There’s plenty to love (one-of-a-kind nature, diversity, music history), plenty to hate (affordability crisis, constant sweating, the prevalence and popularity of fascism). It’s my home, and it’s part of my music in every way. I think Chuck Schuldiner (Death) has an old MTV interview where he credits humidity and mosquitoes for death metal. He’s probably onto something.
Performing at the reopened Churchill’s Pub during the International Noise Conference feels symbolically important. What did that performance represent for you personally and for Miami’s experimental scene more broadly?
We couldn’t have asked for a better show in better company. You really had to be there, it was Miami as fuck. It was a night of great music, and we were very grateful to get put on the bill. It was our debut. That was all Rob and his friendship with Bogdan and Brian, who have been booking a lot of Churchill’s shows since it reopened. It should be said that we were there celebrating Churchill’s return, but we had just lost Gramps, another local staple. I know it’s hard everywhere, but I feel like Miami and Florida in general have some unique factors that make it even more difficult to build and sustain a community, or at least the third spaces that are needed to house them. The people are all still here. They’ll always be.
The release is described as “rough-edged, volatile, and overwhelming,” almost like documenting transformation in real time instead of presenting a polished statement. Was preserving that rawness more important than refinement?
I think what was most important was putting something out into the world. I am by nature a perfectionist. That’s held me back in a lot of my endeavors. As much as I’d love to talk to you about a sleek studio recording, it’s better to be out there making things happen. The I.N.C. performance was raw and real, and I’m happy to share it. I’d encourage anyone whose interest is piqued to come check us out live or follow us on Instagram and Bandcamp.
There have been hints at a full-length release in progress. What directions are you exploring next, and how do you see IANANA evolving beyond this first live recording?
I think “Basement” is a good first frame of reference for the rest of the material. There’ll be a lot for black metal fans to dig into, but we’ll be drawing outside those lines as well. The arrangements are bigger, and I’m really proud of everything that’s been tracked so far. I mentioned Rob and Nick, but I have to mention our producer Griffin Marthe (Memento/With Paper Wings), who is also tracking bass. In both areas he is really kicking ass and I can’t wait for more people to hear his work. In terms of new territory, there are a few tracks that are more than interludes that could be described as proper ambient pieces, some of which I’ll be performing at Dania Sixto’s Ambient Miami on May 30th. My mind is orbiting around what the next challenge could be, as I’ve been living with most of these tracks for a while now. Most of the songs I’ve written so far are limited to one primary electronic instrument, something big that takes up a lot of space in the mix. I’m very interested in designing instruments in Ableton that are more texture-rich and polyphony-friendly going forward, whether that be an Instrument Rack with multiple sounds that I can play like an orchestra, or designing more meticulous automations that offer me immediate expressive control when I’m writing. It’d be cool to hear something like Oval with some Gorguts drumming underneath. I want to push this as far as it can possibly go.



