Emerging from Toronto’s eclectic music scene, Wolfgang Webb can be considered a holistic creative, a gifted aural explorer with a natural propensity for introspection and evocative storytelling. Recently Webb has returned to his solo project, unveiling a dark, liminal album that’s incredibly intimate and kaleidoscopic.
Aptly titled ‘THE LOST BOY’, the record feels life-changing and intricate, moving with purpose among a tight list of cathartic, ethereal, and soundtrack-flavoured pieces. Written “during the restless hours of the night” – as Webb so boldly describes – the album is truly personal and authentic, packing gloomy electronica with a pinch of trip-hop and poignant organic flair. The occasional nostalgic guitars are also on the horizon. It’s a body of work that needs to be discovered slowly, fully appreciating Wolfgang’s nuanced and deep lyrical work.
Intrigued by the project, we caught up with the Canadian musician to find out more about his artistry and future goals… Interview below!
Hey Wolfgang, how is it going? I have been listening to ‘THE LOST BOY’ and I appreciate its liminal, haunting character. It’s quite mysterious, buoyant yet intense at the same time. Do those traits match your personality? Do you listen to a lot of like-minded music?
Firstly, Gab, thank you so much for such a thoughtful and insightful question. The way you describe being ‘liminal’ (I absolutely love that word!) and haunted by certain sounds really paints a vivid picture of someone deeply attuned to the nuances of emotion and transition—something I personally resonate with in music as well. That connection is probably why your question feels so genuine and beautiful; it clearly comes from a place of true reflection.
My friend Jane and I have often joked over the years about being ‘glass half empty’ types, and honestly, we’ve come to celebrate that perspective. It’s not about negativity at all, but about embracing the full spectrum of life’s moods and moments. Sometimes, that intensity and tumultuousness are what make the joyful moments so vivid and meaningful. It’s like a great pendulum—reminding us that we’re alive and feeling in every shade of emotion and experience.
Musically, I’ve always had a love for techno—the bouncier, the better—though it doesn’t make its way into my own music. Not even close. Lately, I’ve been listening to some gorgeous ambient artists—Nils Frahm, Tim Hecker—and it’s been incredibly inspiring. I’ve always been very visual in my approach, so my musical sensibility tends to be cinematic. Playing in that space feels like stepping into a beautiful sandbox; it fuels my creativity and keeps me inspired.
The album marks your return to the music scene after a few years spent working behind the scenes, especially in cinematic and television settings. I guess a lot of that involves dealing with atmospheres and soundscapes – perhaps some of that also came through in the new record?
Absolutely. I’ve always been drawn to dramatic work—the tension, the expansive soundscapes, the kind of immersive atmospheres that can really draw you in. Oddly enough, though, much of the work I was hired to do behind the scenes in television settings was often quite different—more generic, not necessarily in that deep, textured zone I love exploring. Still, I was constantly surrounded by talented engineers who specialized in recording and mixing within that atmospheric space, and hearing their projects was incredibly inspiring.
My first album, The Insomniacs’ Lullaby, was a natural progression from that influence. It was my way of diving headfirst into that sonic universe—playing with tension, mood, and emotion on a more personal level. Plus, my love for the trumpet, cellos, and electronica found a perfect home there, blending organic and electronic textures to create something that felt true to my musical instincts. That album really felt like a journey into those atmospheres I’ve always loved, and I think that experience naturally seeped into The Lost Boy as well.
Taking a wider look at your music career, what inspired you to make music in the first place? Are there any particular artists that you are especially fond of?
I wouldn’t be alive without music. It’s been my constant companion, my refuge, and a constant source of inspiration —it’s like a lifeline that keeps me grounded and motivated. I have immense respect for artists who jump into the fire, who take risks and reinvent themselves. Bowie, for example—he was like a world unto himself. Forever switching genres, yet I could always identify with his voice—every nuance, every subtle shift. Fearless. Michael Stipe, too, stands out for his lyrical integrity.
There’s a luminous restraint in his writing—an honesty that I really connect with. And speaking of honesty, Gord Downie, Leonard Cohen, Lou Reed, Patti Smith, Kate Bush, Nick Cave, Johnette Napolitano—they all have this remarkable ability to hold a mirror up to the human condition without flinching. They confront raw emotion and vulnerability in a way that feels both brave and necessary.
Then there are the sonic architects—Kruder & Dorfmeister, Martin Tielli, The Knife, Trentemøller, Matthew Dear, Nils Frahm—artists who constantly stretch the boundaries of what sound can feel like. They’ve shaped the way I think about space, texture, and atmosphere in music, pushing me to experiment and explore new sonic landscapes.
I also have a fondness for Mary Margaret O’Hara and Jane Siberry—both very different, yet each in their own genre, creating worlds that are uniquely their own. Of course, Massive Attack—those textures, that atmospheric depth—have been hugely influential. And then there’s LOW… Alan Sparhaw, in particular, feels like some kind of quiet genius. His subtlety and emotional depth are inspiring; there’s a kind of profound honesty in his music that resonates deeply.
Jumping back to ‘THE LOST BOY’. Did you have a role in its production? I know that you had some amazing guests helping you along the road…
I produce all of my own music, but I’m wise enough to surround myself with players who elevate the actual sound. John “Wheels” Hurlbut, who mixed the entire first record, also mixed half of this one. He truly understands the sonic architecture that embodies my music. Bruno Ellingham, who mixed two of the tracks, took the songs exactly where they needed to go— as he should, because his work with Everything But The Girl, Massive Attack, and New Order is next level.
My core players—cellist Yann Marc and guitarist Andrew Lauzon—are phenomenal multi-instrumentalists in their own right. Esthero was the perfect choice for the song “March”—angelic, fragile, and strong AF. Percussionist Larry Salzman will always be involved in future recordings because he really gets the moments in between and understands silence. The lovely multi-instrumentalist Derek Downham brings not only incredible musicianship but also a magnetic energy that’s pure gold. Mark Gemini Thwaite turned out to be the perfect fit for the song “Is It OK to Fall?” And I was lucky to stumble upon Justin Heron, a younger mix engineer who did an absolutely smashing job with the song “Phoenix.”
These are all the incredible musicians and engineers who helped shape The Lost Boy.
Lyrically, I would describe the record as certainly introspective and gloomy, perhaps quite cathartic too. It’s a rather personal experience, so I’ll let the reader come to their own conclusions – that said, could you briefly take us through your songwriting process? Do you always look inward for inspiration?
I couldn’t agree with you more—music is such a personal experience, and I love leaving space for the listener to come to their own conclusions. That said, I don’t journal, keep a diary, or sit down to write lyrics in a traditional sense. I usually start with a demo, and the vocal melody is already in my head—so I can hum the parts easily, but there are no words on the page. I have a strong sense of what the song or music represents, or what it could be about. I record myself three or four times on mic, and the humming quickly evolves into words. After a few takes, I often have 60 to 80% of the lyrics complete. I know that sounds a bit strange, but that’s just how my process works. It’s hard to explain exactly, but I think it’s related to frequency and the intimacy of the space I record in.
Do you feel more confident writing music alone, or within a team?
I generally prefer to write music alone, as I find it’s where I feel most connected and free to explore my ideas. That said, Yann Marc and I have a special creative chemistry—we’ve written two songs together from the ground up. The first is “Roads” from the new record, and the other is “Hold Down My Fear” from The Insomniacs’ Lullaby. Yann is incredibly brilliant and brings so much heart to every piece of music we create. His ability to understand the subtleties—the silence, the moments in between notes—is extraordinary. He has a way of knowing exactly when to step back and let space breathe, which adds so much depth and emotion to our work. Collaborating with him is always a deeply enriching experience, and I feel fortunate to have someone with such sensitivity and skill to bring my ideas to life.
Artistically speaking, what challenges have the last two years presented you with?
Musically speaking, there have been very few challenges. The real difficulty lies in what comes after mixing the record—that’s where most of the hurdles tend to appear. Fortunately, the artwork was surprisingly effortless, thanks to the brilliant @Blatta_art, who created the paintings of the Lost Boy on the cover and The Found Man for the inner sleeve. And Leanne Paura for designing the packaging—she did the same for my first album, and her work continues to bring everything together beautifully. The vinyl pressing and mastering were also seamless, thanks to the insanely talented Noah Mintz—honestly, one of the best mastering engineers in North America—and he truly brought the project to life in that final stage. He also mastered the first album.
However, the biggest challenge was creating four music videos that could help reveal the narrative of the songs. I had been planning the visuals for “March” and “The Ride” for quite some time. I was constantly sketching pathways, stone angels, castles, and ruins—visuals that evoke mystery and transformation. When I started piecing together footage for “March,” I often hit creative blocks and would switch over to editing “The Ride” instead—focusing on abandoned amusement parks and forgotten movie theaters, spaces that once pulsed with sound, color, and movement, now left to fade and slowly be reclaimed by nature. It became a kind of ongoing rhythm, shifting gears and following wherever the energy took me.
Eventually, I hit a wall, and that’s when I teamed up with Shauna MacDonald. We collaborated on all four videos. Shauna isn’t just a brilliant actor and director—she has an incredible instinct for visual storytelling. She knows how to hold the emotional weight of a lyric and translate it into something that resonates powerfully on screen. For “March,” she envisioned it as a song of hope—a visual lifeline, a reminder that even in deep isolation, we still belong to something bigger. For “The Ride,” my goal—along with Shauna—was to let nature’s quiet dominance speak for itself, emphasizing the stillness and grandeur of the natural world.
Kristjan Viger also played a huge role. He filmed the footage of me singing, created the candle flares in “March,” and brilliantly conceived the silhouette concept for “The Ride,” which added a whole new layer of meaning to that video. And I must mention my longtime friend, Patrick Tiberius Gehlen—a creative and humble visual genius (and VFX lead on Game of Thrones). He brought the statues to life in “March” in such a haunting, breathtaking way that it truly elevated the entire project.
For the third single, “Is It ok to fall?,” we knew we needed the energy of a live band, and we aimed to create a soft, multi-dimensional effect. Shauna directed that one on her own, while I worked out rough concepts and edits for the fourth single, “Clap”—which we ended up shooting the night before the album’s release. All these incredible friends brought something unique and essential to these videos.
Attempting to produce four music videos within a realistic timeline was definitely the most challenging and stressful part of the process, but also incredibly rewarding.
What are the next steps for your project? Anything exciting on the horizon?
Right now, I’m fully immersed in promoting and releasing the four music videos tied to this album. We literally shot the fourth one the day before the release, so all of my energy is still wrapped around THE LOST BOY. I’m committed to giving him the space and attention he deserves—it’s his journey too, and I want to see where it leads. And of course, there’s more music down the road. Always.
