As we head toward the spring equinox and warmer weather is peeking out from behind the horizon, winter has clutched us one last time in its icy grip, reminding us that, inevitably, it will always return. In these final days of winter’s reign, Wavelength’s Kevin Parnell reached out to Matt Smith, a.k.a. Prince Nifty, to find out where he will wander with the season’s change.

Your solo work, performed under a number of different monikers, is constantly evolving. What are you, as Prince Nifty, up to these days?

These days are as confusing as any. I would say Prince Nifty is still an open-ended question, more than one specific thing or sound. In a way, it’s an experiment to tease out the similarities between apparently different styles or genres of music. Not to be confused as a hodge-podge approach or as collage – it’s about having choral elements next to four-on-the-floor house or modal long form soul tunes. Really, I'm just trying to make music, and I'm drawing from the music that I love. Those sources of inspiration are often disparate, but most of them work on me in a strange way. They affect the way I think when I'm listening. They transport me, they put me in a trance, hypnotize me. That's what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to find ways to make listening and dancing turn into trance.

Much of your work seems more about the process, rather than the result. What interests you in pursuing this kind of approach to making music?

I am definitely fascinated by process. I don't know if it’s more important than the result, but in certain contexts, like live improvisation, I think it’s nice to allow the creative process to be made apparent. Looping and live sampling are, I would say, very process-based and much of the “musical experience” comes from having the elements unravel over time. In this case, I think it’s possible for an elaborate performance – like live looping – to be a kind of great musical moment, even if the result is quite simple or “unmusical.”

I think it’s important to explore and share ideas, even if they are not complete – even if they fail. This kind of vulnerability – feigned or true – mixed with the pressures of public performance, can do wonders to clarify where strengths and weaknesses lie, and it can be a real adventure for everyone. But I also think it’s important to present finished, polished work. So there we have it. I'm generally divided and unsatisfied with myself.

Do you place restrictions upon yourself when performing live or recording, like improvising around a set of rules, or just letting chaos take you where it will?

Restrictions can at times be the basis of the work. One thing I've been doing a lot of lately for recorded work is building these “dummy” songs. I record tracks — sometimes they are very dense, sometimes simple, but very much developing melodic and harmonic tunes — and in turn use them only as material to be chopped up and sampled. Subsequently, I build new songs based in the new, timbral-oriented material of the sliced sample. Often however, a song is just a song and if it works or doesn't work, it’s not for lack or overuse of imposed restrictions.

Generally a live performance is a blend of pre-existing material or ideas and unknowns, always with a penchant for the chaotic. Sometimes a show can just be one strange idea, or a showcase of work – it depends on the show. I like to consider what the show is, who else I am sharing the bill with and try to work those variables into a new(ish) set.

Musically you also work in performance areas like theatrical sound design or in a band setting with Owen Pallett. How do you approach making music in different scenarios and their own unique challenges?

I love working in different environments. It’s been amazing playing with Owen and touring and being a part of a team like that. I'm learning so much from Owen's approach, from his rigour, his work ethic and his ability to deliver wonderfully complex ideas so clearly. I'm very lucky to be in his band. It’s also so nice to be the bass player, and just fill that role and support Owen's vision.

I also love working in theatre. It’s usually my favourite gig. I'm also very lucky to work with really amazing artists who really make challenging work that in turn challenges me to go deeper. For years, I've been working with my partner Liz Peterson, and Alex Wolfson, both of whom are profound influences on my life and work.

I like to think of music solving some sort of problem or another; it’s a kind of mental tool. Often, when you are working on someone's project, they can articulate that problem to you, or hint at it. It’s my job to clarify the problem, and present some solutions. This is much harder to do, I find, with my own work.

Like most independent musicians you balance solo work, touring with bands, collaborating with artists, working freelance non-music gigs, and probably a ton of other things. How do you do it?

I just barely do it. Probably my family thinks I'm not doing it, or not very well at least. It’s a lot of living-beyond-your-means-in-the-back-of-your-mind-living. But it’s also a lot of adventures and opportunities. Freelancing allows me to drop everything and work on an art project, or go on tour, or come back from tour and pick up a little work. It's not a romantic starving-artist life, I've gained some weight in my 30s, but I have an “artist's fee” gym membership which I can generally make time for.

In moving forward, do you look back at the past, to see what you've done musically/artistically, or do you push on with new ideas?

It’s always two steps forward and one backward for me. I've moved through a lot of different approaches and I hope to still, but there are many things from the past I reimagine or rework, and many things I'm sad to have left to never reach their potential. That being said, whenever I can, I've been working out of a studio I helped to build a few years ago, 6 Nassau, and I've got lots of new material and a record or two are imminent.