Leyla Romanova On the Making Of “The One Uncoded”
What was the creative process like for this particular song?
The track was born in a single feverish burst – several studio sessions, and it had taken on a life of its own. As if it were not composed but extracted: each time I sat at the keys, my hands just “knew” where to go, as if the music had existed within me all along, waiting to be revealed. Particularly the Agents’ piano motif (from 02:14) – those relentless sixteenth notes poured forth like lines of green code tumbling down a black void, like Agent Smith’s footsteps, mechanical yet furious – the passage just wrote itself, as if my hands were channeling some unseen force.
Working with Elnarə Xəlilova – the enchanting Baku-based singer – was another alchemical moment. When her vocals entered the mix, the composition suddenly breathed: her Eastern melismas curled through the arrangement like vines through digital concrete.
Then came the glitch – the moment the track rebelled against its own structure: a sudden detour into bossa nova, smoky and surreal, as if the Frenchman’s lounge from The Matrix trilogy had materialized in the waveform – there it was for me: Monica Bellucci’s smirk translated into sound. I remember how my sound co-producer Andrey Genchev initially thought I was joking when I demanded a French accordion, until he heard it slither into the mix, undeniable and perfect – a sonic seduction "Have a drink, enjoy the simulation". But the returning sirens won’t let you stay…
Could you discuss the lyrical themes or messages conveyed in "The One Uncoded?"
The lyrics form a conversation across time – my awakened self reaching back to the still-dormant version of me. It's the most personal metaphor I've ever created: a sonic representation of my own resurrection.
Shortly before writing this track, I was literally shaken awake by the words "What the hell took you so long?" – hitting like a defibrillator. That same evening, I felt drawn to rewatch “The Matrix Resurrections” – and déjà vu struck – there it was, the exact same dialogue. It's surreal, of course, to feel such a connection to characters and events of a fictional film... But the most important thing is that I finally felt alive again, and I remembered my 11-year-old self – the girl who watched “The Matrix” and believed she could "unplug."
"Tu es toujours dans un rêve... You've been sleeping all this time. Wake up!" These whispered phrases are the alarm clock slicing through a dozen years of autopilot, of sleepwalking – my years between 2012 (which crashed my system and knocked me off course) and this awakening.
This isn't just a track – it's my red pill in sonic form.
What did you enjoy most about making "The One Uncoded?"
The audacity of it. No rules. Just a piano dissolving into a chase scene, a detour through some smoky Parisian café where an accordion sighs with nostalgia, and Azerbaijani vocals cutting through the haze like a signal that you’re alive.
In art, I grant myself absolute freedom – as a painter would, choosing colors without restraint. I reach for whatever musical textures, styles, and voices feel organic, untroubled by borders or genres.
Can you tell us a bit about yourself and how you got started in music?
I was raised in Baku – a city where East and West collide. I studied composition at the Bulbul Music School, and conducted my own midnight study sessions – listening to the luminaries: Pyotr Tchaikovsky, Camille Saint-Saëns, Bernard Herrmann, Michel Legrand, Andrei Petrov, John Williams, and many others.
In my youth, I composed mostly “academic” instrumental music – the kind performed in proper concert halls from proper handwritten scores. But gradually, I needed to break boundaries – to experiment with blending genres, combining electronic elements with traditional instrumentation.
How do you feel about the increasing popularity of genre-blending and experimentation in contemporary music?
"Popularity"? I don’t think in those terms.
Actually, I just don’t chase genres – I let each emotion distill its own sound. If a piece demands both a weeping cello and a glitchy breakbeat, so be it. (Though Spotify's algorithms may weep trying to categorize it.)
This is why film music claims me. It's as boundless as imagination itself. Give me a script, and I'll construct its entire auditory universe.
And as for “The One Uncoded”, I hope it's not presumptuous to suggest it lightly touches upon the musical atmosphere of The Matrix trilogy – the soundtrack I've always admired – with deepest appreciation for Rob Dougan, Don Davis, and Juno Reactor.
