is a composer and sound researcher based in Brussel. In their practice, Lou moves between composition and experimentation, blending baroque, electronic and punk influences, combining writing, improvisation and raw energy. Lou grounds their music in a political and social reflection, seeking spaces of freedom where art becomes a means of resistance and transformation.

Crumple Nest is born from chaos – from madness clawing at the edges of reason, where thinking becomes impossible, where one sinks; depression haunting so many trans lives, a shared fog – the raw pain of sex perverted by trauma, STDs as brutal reminders of bodily betrayal, and the suffocating weight of rape culture. Conceived from the bed’s cave, this crumpled nest as improvised refuge, the album is a balm crafted to survive together: everything nests there, transformed into enveloping, healing textures. These aren’t abstract horrors; it’s the raw flesh of my anarcho-communist, feminist, whore, and trans life fighting in a world that devours the vulnerable. The album forges a sonic refuge: breaths in anxiety attacks glitching into powerful noise, enveloping sounds recentering chaos into an impregnable fortress. Politically, it’s a cry against capitalism and its exploiters – those polluting our air, overexploiting workers, crushing bodies. Live shows channel this rage through noise, mimicking human biological rebellion fighting to survive. Crumple Nest distills this energy into glitching wheezes bursting into cathartic release, confronting systemic madness. Trans and militant project, it reclaims sound as collective weapon and intimate balm. Tracks crumple and unfold like anxious lungs: dense textures against isolation’s crush, airy expanses for fleeting safety. It’s music for crisis, fuck, fever – intimate electronics politicizing the personal. In a culture stifling screams, Crumple Nest amplifies them into collective embrace.