In a world where mystery is a rare commodity, there’s something undeniably captivating about an artist who remains shrouded in enigma. Meet irini, the pseudonym of a German producer who has masterfully evaded the spotlight for over a decade, leaving fans to wonder about the person behind the music. Known previously as Traumprinz, Prince of Denmark, DJ Metatron, DJ Healer, Prime Minister of Doom, Golden Baby, and the Phantasy, this artist has built a career on anonymity, with no public appearances since a fleeting DJ set at Berghain in 2015. But here’s where it gets intriguing: his real identity remains a secret, and his music—a blend of dub techno, deep house, trance, and ambient—feels like a portal to another realm.
In rare interviews, irini has hinted at the importance of imagination, describing his work as a Sehnsuchtsort—a desirable place that exists only in fantasy. This concept is nowhere more evident than in his latest release, lost in dreams, a sprawling 6xLP box set that doubles as a three-hour journey through his dreamlike universe. But this is the part most people miss: the album isn’t just a collection of tracks; it’s a meticulously crafted experience, complete with cryptic symbolism and lush packaging that invites listeners to dig deeper. For instance, the artwork features a modified portrait of the Holy Martyr Irene of Thessalonica, subtly altered to include numerological codes and even a nod to the Church of Satan’s Leviathan Cross. Is this a deliberate provocation, or a playful invitation to interpret his work?
Musically, lost in dreams is a fusion of irini’s various alter egos, blending the flinty techno of Prince of Denmark, the pop-infused deep house of Traumprinz, and the ethereal new-age vibes of DJ Healer. Yet, it’s the album’s overarching sense of yearning—conveyed through hazy pads and dreamy melodies—that ties it all together. While some tracks feel imperfect, with moments of forgettable retro camp, others are nothing short of sublime. Take “sweet charlotte,” a drum’n’bass gem with a breathy French dialogue that feels like it’s lifted from a forgotten film, or the ambient masterpiece “afraid 2 go out in the sun,” which samples a 13-year-old Severn Cullis-Suzuki’s powerful speech on climate change. Is irini using his music to confront the world’s anxieties, or is he simply creating a sanctuary from them?
What’s truly remarkable is how irini balances accessibility with exclusivity. His vinyl releases, like the now-$1,700 8xLP box set 8, are collector’s items, yet he regularly shares free mixes on SoundCloud, ensuring his music remains within reach. This duality has earned him a cult following, with fans describing his work as “a permanent breakthrough DMT trip” or comparing him to Prometheus. But here’s the controversial question: Does irini’s mystique enhance his art, or does it risk overshadowing the music itself?
Lost in dreams is far from perfect, but its imperfections feel intentional, like a reflection of the messy, beautiful human experience it seeks to capture. It’s an album that invites you to lose yourself, to revisit the uninhibited imagination of childhood. And that’s irini’s greatest gift: he doesn’t just create music—he creates worlds. So, what do you think? Is irini a genius, a provocateur, or something in between? Let’s discuss in the comments.
