I finished last night the floppy disk containing MIDI files, photos and a Maelifell bio, which I wanted to do last year, for the 25th anniversary of the 96 demo. So the actual anniversary was missed, but as there's no doubt that nobody cares, I guess it's not too bad. It's a satisfaction, in any case, to have completed this object – I've duplicated about ten of them, which I'll give to Xavier, Eric and others, for the rest we'll see according to demand. In the same way, I've started duplicating tapes again; I transferred Bunker blues and Un dimanche d'exécutions to tape and made several copies, with my double turntable.

It's more for the object than anything else, given the sound quality of these transfers (it saturates nicely), and I like the tape object itself, the idea of duplication, of growing, in the real, material world, a body of finite objects in the space where my music is contained - in reality, you could define a USB stick or an Archive. Org in exactly the same way, but there is something more to the old media, perhaps due to their simplicity, the handmade, almost 'handmade' (this is obviously an illusion) aspect of their production / duplication, and even their relative reliability and fragility make them even more lovable.

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Talking about Maelifell, it suddenly occurred to me, while for years I've been wandering around with 150 projects under crazy names, mostly to remain anonymous and prevent even these unknown projects from being linked to each other, to take up the name Maelifell, to continue this musical path, without fear of anyone or any external consideration. As if it had taken me all these years and vain efforts to remain anonymous, to make me realize that nobody cares about Maelifell and me and my past and present projects, and that three enemies in the business are not going to spoil anything.

The relief was immediate. A feeling of returning to something fundamental that had been put aside, neglected, forgotten for no good reason. Perspectives that are reopened. Priorities become clearer, blockages disappear. Initially I didn't want to touch Maelifell's discography, I didn't want to "spoil" our old albums, our "masterpieces" with new albums that might have failed. And suddenly I said to myself, never mind, let's move on, let's assume we've had several periods - the early PSS, the medieval, the neo-classical, the neo-folk – and let's do what we want, none of it is sacred, none of it is so serious.

I've imagined a lot of different covers for future albums, which I'll probably never do, but whatever, this unblocking of the imagination means one thing: the project is not in formaldehyde, it's alive, it can mutate into anything, nothing is written in advance, and our past doesn't commit us to anything.