Behind the Music: An Exclusive Interview with bandmates of Duskling

Welcome to Hawk-IT Interviews. I’m excited to share this Q&A session with the bandmates, Nathalie Tachelet, Dries Schouteren and Byran Heremans of Duskling, all the way from Belgium. In this interview, you’ll get to know each member’s story—from their upbringing and how their musical journeys began, to how they found their way into music and ultimately formed their band. We also talk about their creative process, personal interests, hobbies, and more.

I hope you enjoy reading and getting to know the people behind the music.

Amit Ahuja: To begin at the very start of your story, can you take us back to your earliest memories and paint a vivid picture of where each of you grew up? What were your hometowns like — the streets, the energy, the people, the culture? How would you describe the social and emotional atmosphere that surrounded you during your childhood and teenage years, and what role did family, friends, or local influences play in shaping your early sense of identity?

Duskling:

Nathalie Tachelet: I grew up in Mielen-Boven-Aalst. Which, for those who don’t know it, is basically a retirement home with a church in the middle. I’m pretty sure the average age there is about 80. If you walked down the street too fast, someone would ask you why you were in such a hurry.

There weren’t many kids around. You didn’t “hang out with the neighborhood crew” because there wasn’t really a crew. If you heard loud noises outside, it was either a tractor or someone losing at pétanque. So according to my mom, I “hung around the streets a lot.” Which sounds way more criminal than it actually was. In reality, it meant biking through the fields, building very unstable “camps” out of random wood we found, and attempting to skateboard on roads that were clearly not designed for skateboards.

The streets were quiet. Peacefully quiet. Suspiciously quiet. You could hear birds, wind, distant lawnmowers… and your own thoughts echoing. Culturally, it was very traditional. Hardworking people, everyone knows everyone, and if you did something slightly embarrassing, the entire village would know before you got home.

Emotionally, it was simple. Calm, defintetly a bit too calm. There wasn’t much chaos, which is probably why I felt the need to create some. Not in a destructive way, just in a “let’s build a ramp and see what happens” way. When there aren’t many distractions, your imagination becomes your main source of entertainment.

Growing up there shaped me in a strange but good way. It forced creativity. It taught me how to entertain myself. And maybe that quiet, boring village is exactly why I later felt drawn to louder things.

Dries Schouteren: I honestly have a really bad memory. I can only like remember stuff from when i was 14. I still live in the same town i grew up in (Diepenbeek). It hasnt changed a lot. A lot fewer bars though… I can give you my global perspective of how things have changed. People talked more when i was younger, barely people on social media, living in the moment.

The town itself is still largely the same.

Byran: I grew up in a small Belgian town, about 2 hours from Brussels. Not much to do, not much to see, just a normal, quiet town. I didn’t have the best childhood, lots of things happened with the divorce of my parents. But that did result in meeting my stepdad, a great musician who played in lots of big bands and got me into music as well. Same with my uncle, great death metal singer who got me early on into the music scene en took me to every show.

Amit Ahuja: Looking back now with experience and perspective, how do you feel your upbringing shaped the individuals and artists you’ve become? In what ways did your early life experiences influence your values, worldview, emotional resilience, and the way you approach creativity and self-expression today?

Nathalie Tachelet: Looking back now, I think my upbringing shaped me less by what it offered and more by what it didn’t offer.

Growing up in a place that felt closed-minded and stuck in time made self-expression feel almost forbidden. Standing out wasn’t really the norm. Even having a skateboard felt like a small rebellion. I only got one because my grandpa secretly gave it to me when it was considered “too dangerous.” That tiny act says a lot. Creativity and expression weren’t automatically supported, they had to be smuggled in.

There weren’t many hobbies or creative outlets around me. No strong music culture, no art scene, no obvious path to explore different interests. But internally, I already felt that urge. I wanted to play music, paint, try ice hockey,… just try things. Not because I had a master plan, but because I felt this constant need to break the monotony. It was less about ambition and more about survival. Creativity became a form of escape long before it became a craft.

Ironically, it was only after leaving that environment that I really started discovering who I was and what I wanted. Distance gave me perspective. Once I stepped outside that bubble, I could finally ask myself: What do I actually like? What do I want to say? What am I capable of? That process of searching became a huge part of who I am today.

Value-wise, it made me care deeply about authenticity. I know what it feels like to suppress parts of yourself to fit into a narrow framework. So now, as an artist, I refuse to do that. Self-expression isn’t just aesthetic for me, it’s necessary. It’s about honesty. About saying the things that don’t neatly fit into polite conversation.

It also built emotional resilience. When you grow up feeling slightly out of sync with your surroundings, you develop a strong inner world. You learn to sit with discomfort. You learn to entertain yourself. You learn that not being understood immediately isn’t the end of the world. That’s incredibly useful as an artist, because creativity often means exposing parts of yourself that not everyone will relate to.

So in a way, the limitations of my early environment created the drive I have now. The silence made me want to make noise. The uniformity made me crave individuality. And the feeling of “this isn’t quite me” became the starting point of figuring out exactly who I am.

Dries Schouteren: Well, my parents were hippies and big into music. I think my dad played a big part artist-wise & music-wise. He went to art school and stuff like that. His realm of existence was somewhere beyond mine and that’s something that i found intriguing and i think that triggered me to pursue something artsy. In this case: guitar and music. I’m not always that resilient but i think music is a good outlet for this. I think everybody should learn to talk to another instead of condemning or putting the blame. I was raised that way. Nothing was taboo in our household.

Byran Heremans: Looking back, my upbringing had a big influence on both who I am and the artist I’ve become. Growing up around music, especially through my uncle who was a death metal singer, introduced me to the scene at a young age. Going to shows early on showed me the energy, passion, and sense of community in music. Those experiences taught me the importance of being authentic and expressing real emotions through creativity. They also helped me develop resilience and see music as a way to process feelings and connect with others. Because of that, I approach my music with honesty and passion, always trying to stay true to myself.

Amit Ahuja: Every city has its own heartbeat when it comes to music. Can you share what it was like coming up within your local music scene? Talk about the venues, promoters, fellow bands, and the sense of community — or even the challenges — that defined those early years. How did being part of that environment influence your sound, work ethic, and identity as a band? And what do you think makes your hometown a uniquely powerful place for artists compared to other cities?

Nathalie Tachelet: There wasn’t a “scene” where I’m from. No venues. Not even a bus to the city. If you wanted to see a show, you had to really want it. From the age of sixteen, my parents would sometimes drive me to the nearest town and even there, the only thing happening was the local youth center. That was the first place where I saw small bands play and realized this world actually existed outside of my headphones.

Later on, I’d take public transport from there to Hasselt. At the time, there was basically one real venue programming rock, metal, hardcore or punk shows: Muziekodroom (now known as Bootstraat). That place meant everything. It wasn’t a huge club, but it felt like a gateway. You’d see touring bands one-week, local hardcore kids the next. It was raw, loud, and real.

Dries Schouteren: In the town i grew up in there wasnt that big of a scene but when i was like 16, 17 i wound up in a hardcore band from Genk, thats like the city right next to the town im from. I got in touch with the local hardcore scene and stayed in it for a long while. I knew a lot of people just from seeing them at every local show. Made friends in local bands. Even some of them made it big time. That influenced me to do try and do something similar. I think i get my style of play from playing in hardcore bands. Im not a technically gifted player but i like to chug.

Byran Heremans: There really wasn’t a local music scene. Sure you had some bands, but not enough to talk about a scene. Dries and I met when we were like 16 and we started playing together, and somehow made eachother grow as an artist. We never stopped playing together, worked on our sound, had a couple of bands, and still enjoy playing together.

Amit Ahuja: Walk us through your individual musical journeys. When did music first enter your lives in a meaningful way? Was there a defining moment, memory, or experience that shifted you from being a listener to feeling compelled to create?

Nathalie Tachelet: For me, music didn’t start with an instrument in my hands. It started behind a DJ booth.

I was actually a metal DJ first. And I still am. That world pulled me in because I always felt shows ended too early. You’d wait all week for that energy, that chaos, that connection and then by 11 PM everyone was heading home. I never wanted it to stop. I wanted to stay in that atmosphere a little longer. So instead of complaining about it, I decided to become part of it.

DJ’ing metal shows and festivals gave me a different kind of education. I wasn’t just listening to music, I was studying it. Watching how crowds reacted. Feeling which breakdown hit harder live. Seeing when a chorus truly connected. After about two years of spinning tracks, something I genuinely love doing, I started feeling this quiet frustration.

I was playing music that meant the world to me… but it was someone else’s story. Someone else’s creation.

That realization stuck with me. And my mindset has always been simple: don’t just dream about it: do it. So instead of staying in that “what if” space, I signed up for vocal lessons. No dramatic turning point, no overnight transformation. Just a decision.

That’s when the shift happened, from curating energy to creating it.

Learning to sing was terrifying and empowering at the same time. Suddenly I wasn’t just hiding behind decks and transitions, I was confronting my own voice, literally. It forced me to develop discipline, vulnerability, and confidence in a way DJ’ing never demanded from me.

What I still carry from my DJ background is an instinct for dynamics. I think in terms of flow, tension, and release. I care deeply about how a set, or now a show, feels as a journey. I know what it’s like to stand in the crowd wanting the night to last just a bit longer.

Dries Schouteren: For me it was the first time hearing Led Zeppeling songs. My father had all those vinyls. I liked that as a child. When i got older it evolved into more heavy stuff.

Byran Heremans: Seeing my uncle perform on stage always gave me the feeling of ‘I want that too’. Wanting to do the same, get on stage with my own music, seeing people enjoy.

Amit Ahuja: What initially drew each of you toward the genre you focus on today? Beyond the musical intensity or structure, what was it about the culture, aesthetic, emotional depth, or sense of belonging within that scene that resonated with you on a personal level?

Nathalie Tachelet: To be honest, we don’t really think in genre boxes when we write music. We never sit down and say, “Let’s make a metalcore track.” We just follow what feels right emotionally and energetically in the moment.

That being said, we understand that from the outside people will probably place us in metalcore, especially because we combine clean and screamed vocals, heavy riffs, and dynamic shifts between melody and aggression. And that makes sense. But for us, those elements aren’t a genre decision. They’re emotional tools.

What initially drew us toward this sound wasn’t the label. It was the freedom within it. The ability to move between extremes. To scream something raw and unfiltered, and then answer it with a clean vocal that feels vulnerable or reflective. That contrast feels human. Life isn’t one texture, so we don’t want our music to be either.

Beyond the musical intensity, it was the culture around heavy music that resonated deeply. There’s a certain honesty in this scene. You’re allowed to feel too much. You’re allowed to struggle. You’re allowed to be loud about it. What might look aggressive from the outside is often incredibly cathartic and communal from the inside.

Aesthetically and emotionally, we were drawn to that rawness: not perfection, but authenticity. Sweat, tension, cracked voices, movement. The kind of environment where vulnerability and power can exist at the same time.

So if people call it metalcore, that’s completely fine. But for us, it’s not about fitting into a genre. It’s about creating a space big enough to hold everything we need to express.

Dries Schouteren: Not trying to fit in i think. Metal is still a shock for some people. I like it that way. I dont want to like something just to be cool.

Byran Heremans:  I think we all drew each other into this genre. Couple of years ago none of us listened to this genre, but when we started playing together and Nathalie started singing, this was created and we all started to appreciate the genre more.

Amit Ahuja: Looking back on your early years, were there particular bands, albums, or even specific songs that resonated with you on a deeply personal level and left a lasting imprint on who you were becoming? For each member, how did those formative influences spark the desire to pick up an instrument, begin writing, or explore your voice as a singer? In what ways did those inspirations help shape your growth as individual musicians — and ultimately play a role in bringing you together as a band?

Nathalie Tachelet: Looking back, it’s impossible for me to trace everything back to one band, one album, or one defining moment. That idea actually feels limiting. I genuinely believe that everything you’ve ever listened to, even the bands you didn’t fully like at some random festival m, leaves a trace somewhere in your creative DNA.

Music first entered my life through my dad. He was into ’80s rock and metal, so that sound was always around me. I have very vivid memories of standing in the living room with a tennis racket as a “guitar,” coming out of the garage with my dad and doing full-on guitar solos to Iron Maiden and Judas Priest. That wasn’t just listening, that was participation. It was playful, loud, bonding. That’s probably where the emotional connection to heavy music really started.

Later, when I began discovering music on my own, it hit differently. Bands like Slipknot, Korn, and Sepultura opened up a darker, more confrontational side of heavy music for me. That intensity felt raw and honest in a way I hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t just about riffs anymore, it was about emotion, identity, frustration, expression.

And then even later, I started digging deeper into more underground corners: doom, stoner, black ’n roll, and other less mainstream subgenres. That phase was less about impact and more about exploration. Texture. Atmosphere. Space. It made me realize how broad heavy music really is.

But again, I don’t think it’s just those “big” influences that shaped me. Every show I attended. Every random band I stumbled upon. Every album I replayed for a month straight. Even music outside of metal. It all adds up.

It’s the same way I look at my paintings. Every memory influences what I create. Every artwork, photo, or film I’ve ever seen feeds into how I see color, composition, emotion. Music works exactly the same way. Creation is accumulation.

As for how it pushed me to create rather than just consume. I think it was never about copying a specific band. It was about wanting to feel that same intensity from the inside. From air-guitaring with my dad to later stepping behind a DJ booth, and eventually exploring my own voice each phase was just a deeper layer of involvement.

In the end, what brought us together as a band wasn’t a shared obsession with one artist. It was a shared understanding of what heavy music can do. The catharsis. The release. The emotional honesty. We may have different detailed influences, but we connect on that core feeling and that’s stronger than any single genre or band reference.

Dries Schouteren: I liked grunge a lot growing up. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, alice in chains, …. I even liked the band which shall not be named, cough Nickelback, cough.

Then it went to Metallica, all the records up until load/reload were really formative for me. I learned my playing style purely from Metallica riffs. After that came the metalcore: old killswitch engage, parkway drive etc. After that is when i got into the hardcore scene and went old school again. I think Duskling is sort of me reliving my teens listening to that old school metalcore.

Byran Heremans: Not really particular albums or bands, more like the urge to be as good as some other artists. For example, I always wished I could drun like Trey Williams, and that’s also one of the reasons I started playing. Now I know I will never be that good, already gave up on that dream haha, but still, it got me to play an instrument.

Amit Ahuja: Take us back to the very beginning of Duskling. How did the band first come together? What circumstances, shared experiences, or creative visions aligned at that moment to make it feel right to officially start this journey as a group?

Nathalie Tachelet: Part of the foundation was already in what we mentioned before: the shared love for heavy music and the need to create instead of just consuming it.

But the actual start of Duskling? The classic story: with a beer in a café.

The first rehearsal was one week later.

Dries Schouteren: Well, ive known bryan, the drummer, for a really long time and he asked me if i would join him and Nathalie as guitar player in their new project. I never doubted and said yes.

Byran Heremans: Nathalie actually never sang one note. It was one night when we were drunk that I heard her sing and said ‘we should do something with that’. Couple months later she took lessons and well, it only got better, so we wanted to make our own music. Dries and I already had a band, so whe asked Dries, and with no doubt said yes. That’s when Duskling was created.

Amit Ahuja: When Duskling was first forming, what was the original vision for your sound, message, and overall identity? As you look at where you are today, how closely does that early vision align with what you’ve become — and where have you surprised yourselves creatively?

Nathalie Tachelet: From the start, the vision for Duskling was simple: make music that feels honest, intense, and emotionally raw. We weren’t thinking in genre boxes, just about contrast, energy, and expression.

Looking back, that core hasn’t changed. What has surprised us is how much we’ve grown in nuance and depth. We’ve learned to balance heaviness with melody, aggression with vulnerability, and let our individual influences shape something bigger than any single idea we started with. The spirit is the same; the sound just found more layers along the way.

Dries Schouteren: I usually dont have a particular vision. What pours out of us, musically, is what it becomes.

Byran Heremans: When Duskling was first forming, the original vision was actually pretty instinctive. We didn’t sit down with a strict blueprint, it was more about capturing a certain atmosphere and emotional honesty. We knew we wanted the sound to feel immersive and slightly melancholic, but still powerful. It was always important that the music felt genuine rather than polished for the sake of trends. The message, even early on, revolved around vulnerability, introspection, and translating complex emotions into something people could connect with.

Looking at where we are today, that core intention is still very much intact. The emotional depth and atmosphere we were chasing in the beginning are still central to what we do. What’s changed is our confidence and willingness to experiment. We’ve surprised ourselves creatively by pushing the dynamics further, being heavier in some moments, softer and more restrained in others, and taking more risks in production and songwriting. In the early days, we were still figuring out who we were. Now it feels less like searching and more like refining, we understand our identity better, but we’re not afraid to let it evolve.

Amit Ahuja: When Duskling was first forming, what was the original vision for your sound, message, and overall identity? As you look at where you are today, how closely does that early vision align with what you’ve become — and where have you surprised yourselves creatively?

Nathalie Tachelet: Yes, our first name was DIRGE, but it was already taken, even if the band wasn’t active anymore. We didn’t dare use it, so we started looking again.

When we were in the studio I came with the idea “Duskling” and it just clicked for all of us. Dusk: the space between day and night, reflecting the mix of clean and screamed vocals. Ling: a person, a creature. It felt simple, evocative, and perfectly in line with the identity and mood we wanted to capture.

Dries Schouteren: Yeah, we had a few but i can't quite remember honestly. It was nice to settle on a name though.

Byran Heremans: We had a lot of other names in mind, but most of them were taken. One day I think Nathalie came with Duskling, it wasn’t a perfect match for me at the beginning, but it grew on me and would never change it.

Amit Ahuja: The name Duskling feels layered and intentional. Can you break down the inspiration behind it? What does it symbolize for you emotionally, philosophically, or artistically — and how does it reflect the themes that run through your music?

Nathalie Tachelet: Duskling is layered for us. Dusk represents the space between light and dark — the push and pull of clean and screamed vocals, vulnerability and aggression. Ling suggests a person or creature navigating that in-between world. Emotionally and artistically, it captures the tension, contrast, and introspection that run through our music.

Dries Schouteren: Duskling is the battle between light and dark. For me that means like the contrast between the cleans and the harsher vocals.

Byran Heremans: Dusk’s means between light and dark, ‘ling’ is like a creature. It’s a made-up word, which for me just sounds good.

Amit Ahuja: When you begin creating a new song as a band, where does that first spark usually come from — is it a lyric, a riff, a rhythm, or simply a feeling you’re trying to capture? For as a singer, do the words and vocal melodies grow from deeply personal experiences and inner reflections, or from broader observations and abstract ideas? For the guitar or bass player, does inspiration start with a specific tone, chord progression, or atmosphere that sets the emotional foundation? And from the drummer, do the rhythms emerge in response to the energy of the lyrics and riffs, or do they sometimes help shape the song’s direction from the start? How do those individual creative sparks come together and evolve through collaboration into the fully realized track your listeners ultimately hear?

Nathalie Tachelet: Every song starts differently for us. Sometimes Dries comes up with a riff first, Bryan jumps in on drums, and I build lyrics and melodies around that. Other times, I start with a lyric or vocal idea, and Dries and Bryan create the instrumental around it.

The magic happens when someone brings an idea that excites the rest of us: then we all feed off each other. Dries and Bryan have been playing together since they were sixteen, so they can almost anticipate each other’s moves without a word. For me, it’s an absolute honor to bring my own creativity into that flow and watch it evolve into a full song.

Dries Schouteren: Most of the times we start with the lyrics in a specific melody. From there we work on a guitar riff that suits and supports the lyrics. Finally, we create a drumbeat.

Sometimes we also start with a riff of mine. But that’s in most cases only for the screaming parts.

Byran Heremans: Usually we start with the lyrics and just build from there. We get a rythm in the lyrics, write a riff that really supports it, and from there we go one with the drums, untill we get our song together. It’s a whole process with LOTS of rewriting.

Amit Ahuja: Could you dive deeper into specific tracks from Black Tongue and What the Silence Hid? What stories, emotions, or chapters of your lives were you exploring within those songs? Are there moments in those records that feel especially vulnerable or transformative for you?

Nathalie Tachelet: Both Black Tongue and What the Silence Hid explore different sides of my emotional and creative world. Black Tongue channels anger, frustration, and confrontation/ moments where we felt powerless or misunderstood, but also the energy to push through it. What the Silence Hid is more introspective, dealing with inner reflection, vulnerability, and the things we don’t always say out loud.

For me personally, the most transformative moments are always when a lyric or vocal line really exposes something raw: a fear, a doubt, or a memory and turns it into something that others can connect with. That tension between heaviness and vulnerability is at the heart of both records, and it’s what still makes performing those songs feel intense and personal.

Amit Ahuja: When you guys are creating music, does the process feel more like catharsis, self-discovery, confrontation, healing — or a mixture of all of it? How does that emotional state influence what ultimately makes its way into your songs?

Nathalie Tachelet: For us, it’s always a mix. Creating music is cathartic, sometimes confrontational, often a way to process and reflect. That emotional state shapes everything, the intensity of the riffs, the vulnerability in the vocals, the shifts between aggression and melody.

Dries Schouteren: Confrontation, because this genre is something i dont usually write. It's a little more precise than the thrash and hardcore im used to.

Byran Heremans: When we’re creating music, it’s honestly a mixture of all of it . Sometimes a song starts from a place of tension or confusion, and the act of writing becomes a way to untangle those emotions. Other times it feels more reflective, like we’re uncovering something about ourselves that we didn’t fully understand until we heard it out loud in a melody. That emotional state really shapes what ends up in the song. If we’re in a raw place, the lyrics tend to be more exposed and vulnerable. If we’re processing something, the production might feel more layered or dynamic. We try not to filter those feelings too much. Whatever feels honest in the moment is usually what makes it into the final version, because that authenticity is what gives the song its weight.

Amit Ahuja: Is there a particular message, emotion, or sense of understanding you hope listeners take away after experiencing your music? Or do you intentionally leave space for interpretation, allowing fans to project their own stories and meanings onto the songs?

Nathalie Tachelet: I see it the same way I approach my painting. When people ask me what a painting means, I want them to make their own interpretation first. If I explain it, it limits their own creativity and thought. With our music, it’s the same: we leave space for listeners to find their own meaning, emotions, or stories. Everyone can take something personal away.

Dries Schouteren: As long as people feel something, I'm happy.

Byran Heremans: We don’t necessarily want to hand listeners a fixed meaning, but we do hope they walk away feeling understood in some way. If someone can find a piece of their own story inside our music, whether that’s comfort, clarity, or even just a sense that they’re not alone, then we’ve done what we set out to do. We intentionally leave space in the songs for interpretation, because once the music is out in the world, it belongs to the listener as much as it does to us. It’s powerful to see how people connect their own experiences to something we created from ours. That shared emotional space is really what music is about for us.

Amit Ahuja: Rejection, setbacks, and self-doubt are part of nearly every creative journey. What advice would you offer to younger musicians facing those challenges? How can artists transform disappointment into motivation and long-term growth?

Nathalie Tachelet: My advice is simple: make music for yourself, not for anyone else. Don’t wait or overthink just do it. Setbacks and doubts will come, but the only way to grow is by actually creating, learning from mistakes, and keeping your own voice at the center. Dreams stay dreams until you turn them into action.

Dries Schouteren: Search for like-minded people. People you can hang out with besides rehearsals and gigs. Have fun, dream big but treat it as a hobby. Youll have more fun that way.

Byran Heremans: It’s a lame answer, but just don’t give up. Keep making music, talk to people, other bands, make sure people notice you, and most of all, have fun!

Amit Ahuja: Looking ahead, what exciting projects, collaborations, tours, or creative milestones are on the horizon for Duskling? What feels like the next big chapter, and what are you personally most excited to explore?

Nathalie Tachelet: While our full EP drops on March 16, we’ll be testing it live in some try-out shows. We also have something exciting planned for the end of the year, but that’s still under wraps. In the meantime, we’re keeping the momentum going by writingWe are working hard on our first full album, which we plan to record somewhere this year. new material, hoping to head into the studio soon for a full-length album.

Dries Schouteren: I think a full album and hopefully some festivals. Well see!

Byran Heremans: We are working hard on our first full album, which we plan to record somewhere this year.

Amit Ahuja: For each member, who are three people who have profoundly shaped your life — whether artistically, personally, or professionally? What lessons did they teach you, and how do those influences continue to guide you today?

Nathalie Tachelet:

1. My parents: Even though out music isn’t really their thing, they’ve always believed in me and supported me 100%. They’re my biggest fans and have given me the confidence to keep going.

2. Bryan: He heard me sing and told me I needed to pursue it. More importantly, he pushed me to find my own confidence and actually dare to do it.

3. Kristof – A close friend with deep knowledge of the music industry. He manages my DJ project, but beyond that, he’s a trusted advisor and friend who’s always honest, pushing me to grow and be better.

All three continue to guide me, both personally and creatively, and their influence is part of everything I do in music.

Dries Schouteren: My dad as stated before. It sounds cliche put personally my mom too, she really doesnt give a fuck and i like that :) I can appreciate that in a person. Anything goes, do what you want and have fun. Professionally i couldnt tell you. I try to do my own thing.

Byran Heremans: Definitely my uncle, who got me into metal music early on. Seeing him and his band members just doing their thing, having fun on stage, on the road, everywhere, amazing to see. My stepdad, who got me from having an instrument, to actually playing it, giving me tips, telling me his experiences, pretty mich guiding me through the whole beginning of playing music. Last but definitely not least, my girlfriend, Nathalie, who just helps me be a better person, supports me in everything I do. Doesn’t matter if it’s career our music wise, she supports me, helps me, and together we will make it work, no matter what.

Amit Ahuja: Outside of music, what other forms of art or storytelling inspire you all? Are there particular films, books, visual artists, series, or podcasts that deeply resonate with you? What is it about those mediums — the emotional depth, narrative structure, atmosphere, or craftsmanship — that fuels your creativity?

Nathalie Tachelet: Outside of music, I draw a lot of inspiration from films and visual art. Cult classics like David Lynch’s Eraserhead. Or Rob Zombie’s House of 1000 Corpses, and basically all his films stand out: the music, vibe, atmosphere, visuals, and casting are all incredible and really stick with me.

I also get inspired by every museum I’ve ever visited and by visual artists like Biljana Djurdjevic, Dali, Francesca Woodman, Franz Sedlacek, and Kati Heck.

Dries Schouteren: I never cry when i watch a movie, except the lord of the rings man. Still hits hard. I think because when i saw those movies as a child, there were no worries and it takes me back. I also liked the score, maybe also an influence in wanting to pursue music.

Byran Heremans: Not really into other forms of art. Nathalie got me more and more into painting (because she is a painter), but other than that not really anything that deeply resonates with me.

Amit Ahuja: Many artists speak openly about the relationship between creativity and mental health. How have you each navigated that balance throughout your journeys? What tools, support systems, or practices have helped you maintain well-being while pursuing your passion, and what advice would you give to younger artists learning to protect their mental health?

Nathalie Tachelet: For me, music has always been both an outlet and a challenge for mental health. It lets me process emotions, frustration, or stress, but it can also demand a lot of energy and vulnerability. What helps is keeping balance: leaning on friends and family who support me, making time for other creative outlets like painting, and remembering to step back when needed.

Dries Schouteren: Talk, talk, talk. Go to therapy when youre down in the gutter. Stress is the biggest killer in the world. Take it from me. Music can be a good outlet for this though. Let those emotions pour into the riffs you write. That heals too.

Byran Heremans: Creativity and mental health are definitely connected. Music has always been a way for me to process emotions and deal with stress. Having supportive people around me, like band members, friends, and family, helps a lot. Taking breaks when needed and remembering why I started making music in the first place also keeps things balanced. My advice to younger artists would be to take care of themselves, not put too much pressure on perfection, and remember that it’s okay to step back sometimes.

Amit Ahuja: As we wrap up, what reflections would you guys like to leave with your fans and my readers — and with anyone out there chasing a dream? Is there a message, truth, or piece of wisdom that feels especially important to share at this point in your journey?

Nathalie Tachelet: I always find it a bit sad when people tell me, “I want to learn to ride a motorbike,” or “I want to learn to sing,” and then months later, nothing has happened. My advice is simple: just do it. Stop waiting, stop overthinking: take the step. What can happen?

Personally, I’ve tried countless new things, and people often reacted with “what is she doing now?” At first, I felt ashamed or doubted myself. I even spoke to a professional about it, who reassured me that having that hunger for life is healthy. I’m not someone who thrives on comfort. I thrive on challenges, and that’s okay. Life is about taking risks, exploring, and allowing yourself to grow.

Do it. Keep going. That hunger is a strength, not something to apologize for.

Dries Schouteren: Dont worry about things you can't control.

Have fun, have a laugh, have a beer, smoke that cigarette, or dont. You do you.

Byran Heremans: If there’s one thing I’d want to say to anyone chasing a dream, it’s to stay true to yourself and keep going, even when things get difficult. Progress takes time, and not everything will happen overnight. Surround yourself with people who support you and believe in what you’re doing. Most importantly, enjoy the journey and never lose the passion that made you start in the first place.

Amit Ahuja: A sincere thank you to Nathalie Tachelet, Dries Schouteren and Byran Heremans from Duskling for sharing their stories and experiences with my readers.

Explore the links below to discover Duskling's music and find where you can follow the band on social media:

https://tunelink.co/duskling?utm_source=ig&utm_medium=social&utm_content=link_in_bio&fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAc3J0YwZhcHBfaWQMMjU2MjgxMDQwNTU4AAGnqCCbEnVEFfFF5JHl3-BuPBeXClaazZep97eiPTo_LonqzLe_KICvG_dH38Y_aem_LnCAAlAjbFsXHQq3odF6Bg

Duskling IG page:

https://www.instagram.com/dusklingmusic/

***Photo credit is attributed to Duskling unless otherwise specified.***