Doomed Scrolls and £5 Green Screens: Inside Pivots’ Immersive War on Hyperreality
Inside Roman Rappak and Pol Sibil’s immersive war on information overload, broken industry models, and the chaos of the modern doom scroll.
By taking the stage on a moored Parisian barge and using low-fi iPhone VFX to fight back against the polished illusions of modern tech, the Anglo-French electronic duo are rewriting the independent artist survival guide.
The classic indie narrative has changed massively over the decades. The formula of forming a band, sweating it out in local pubs, getting signed, and touring the world has been thoroughly crushed beneath the weight of collapsing grassroots circuits. Artists also have to fight more than ever to make a living from their music with the decline in physical formats and microscopic streaming pay outs.
But working from their studio in Paris, UK-French electronic duo Pivots, comprising Roman Rappak and Pol Sibil, aren’t mourning the decline of the old system. Instead, they are actively building a strange, virtual counter-reality to help them survive the new one.
Their new single, “FAKE NEWS,” is a sonic snapshot of modern existence: a beautiful, anxious collision of crystal-clear digital precision and decaying analogue grit. To celebrate the release, the band took over a moored barge on Paris’s Bassin de la Villette, inviting audiences into a 20-minute pre-show immersive experience powered by projection mapping, game engines, and VR.
Despite a heavy touring schedule, Roman Rappak and Pol Sibil found time to delve into the chaos of the digital doom scroll, the magic of early Nintendo games, and why the future of independent music relies entirely on creating experiences you can't just download. Here is their interview and their story.
The classic indie narrative has changed massively over the decades. The formula of forming a band, sweating it out in local pubs, getting signed, and touring the world has been thoroughly crushed beneath the weight of collapsing grassroots circuits. Artists also have to fight more than ever to make a living from their music with the decline in physical formats and microscopic streaming pay outs.
But working from their studio in Paris, UK-French electronic duo Pivots, comprising Roman Rappak and Pol Sibil, aren’t mourning the decline of the old system. Instead, they are actively building a strange, virtual counter-reality to help them survive the new one.
Their new single, “FAKE NEWS,” is a sonic snapshot of modern existence: a beautiful, anxious collision of crystal-clear digital precision and decaying analogue grit. To celebrate the release, the band took over a moored barge on Paris’s Bassin de la Villette, inviting audiences into a 20-minute pre-show immersive experience powered by projection mapping, game engines, and VR.
Despite a heavy touring schedule, Roman Rappak and Pol Sibil found time to delve into the chaos of the digital doom scroll, the magic of early Nintendo games, and why the future of independent music relies entirely on creating experiences you can't just download. Here is their interview and their story.
FAKE NEWS artwork
You’re a UK-French duo. London and Paris are two very different cities with very different music scenes. How do you think your sound could be influenced by the two scenes? Are you more of a post-punk influenced band with a grittier sound from London or more of an electronic influenced band with a more precise sound from Paris?
The fact that we are a band with one person from Paris and one from London has had a huge effect on our music. There are definitely aspects of the UK style of indie production, with its use of chaos, distortion and saturation. On the other hand, we've definitely picked up the more French electronic approach, where there's much more space, detail and precision in the actual tones and sounds. All the songs start with bass guitar, and often in a higher register, more towards a Peter Hook/Simon Gallup school of bass. That way the real low end frequencies are left to the synths and 808s etc.
For us, the sweet spot is somewhere between the two: moments of absolute raw live chaos combined with incredibly detailed, precise production. It's the same with our use of samples. We love juxtaposing scratchy found sounds and old VHS recordings alongside ultra-bright, compressed synthesizers and drum machines.
The fact that we are a band with one person from Paris and one from London has had a huge effect on our music. There are definitely aspects of the UK style of indie production, with its use of chaos, distortion and saturation. On the other hand, we've definitely picked up the more French electronic approach, where there's much more space, detail and precision in the actual tones and sounds. All the songs start with bass guitar, and often in a higher register, more towards a Peter Hook/Simon Gallup school of bass. That way the real low end frequencies are left to the synths and 808s etc.
For us, the sweet spot is somewhere between the two: moments of absolute raw live chaos combined with incredibly detailed, precise production. It's the same with our use of samples. We love juxtaposing scratchy found sounds and old VHS recordings alongside ultra-bright, compressed synthesizers and drum machines.
I understand that you are exploring everything from large-scale political misinformation down to small rumours, like "the idea of plastic poisoning." What drew you to that specific example, and how do these smaller, everyday anxieties feed into the larger themes of the track?
The themes of the track definitely focus on desensitisation and information overload—audio and images that lead you to believe one thing before suddenly meaning something else.
In some ways, the track is trying to become the audio equivalent of a kind of doom scroll. There's that strange capacity of social media and the internet to show you a cute kitten next to an air strike in a war-torn country, followed by someone making a lasagne, followed by a right-wing lunatic trying to convince you of some new conspiracy. We liked the way the song seemed to have that confused/chaotic quality where you are being pulled in one direction then another.
The themes of the track definitely focus on desensitisation and information overload—audio and images that lead you to believe one thing before suddenly meaning something else.
In some ways, the track is trying to become the audio equivalent of a kind of doom scroll. There's that strange capacity of social media and the internet to show you a cute kitten next to an air strike in a war-torn country, followed by someone making a lasagne, followed by a right-wing lunatic trying to convince you of some new conspiracy. We liked the way the song seemed to have that confused/chaotic quality where you are being pulled in one direction then another.
This track in particular (FAKE NEWS) uses a load of found sounds that would be near impossible to recreate with AI and the whole video was shot using an iPhone. Was there anything unexpected that surprised you about how you work creatively by having to make everything by hand?
The way we make music is by trying not to have too much of a preconception about where the song will end up. It always feels like the song is taking us somewhere, rather than the other way round. We discover things about the track as it's evolving. Having too much of a plan can sometimes dilute a good idea.
In contemporary music production, it feels like you can just work on using a computer to perfect/tune/quantise a section of music, and much less about creating a sonic imprint. Digital workstations and tools are fantastic because anyone can use them, but they can also make everything start to sound the same.
So, in a way, we've gone back to what recording a band was in the first place: simply capturing a snapshot of our band's life—the conversations we’ve had, the places we’ve been and the people we’ve met.
One thing that's really important with this approach is striking a balance between letting the song take us in all sorts of directions, but then towards the end of the process editing things down and being really brutal and intentional. That's why having our own studio is so important. We go there every day and try to write as many ideas as possible. Fake News itself started from a weird loop Pol made on his guitar. Then we just explored where it could go until that final editing moment at the end. In many ways, the most creative moments can come from deciding what to leave out.
The way we make music is by trying not to have too much of a preconception about where the song will end up. It always feels like the song is taking us somewhere, rather than the other way round. We discover things about the track as it's evolving. Having too much of a plan can sometimes dilute a good idea.
In contemporary music production, it feels like you can just work on using a computer to perfect/tune/quantise a section of music, and much less about creating a sonic imprint. Digital workstations and tools are fantastic because anyone can use them, but they can also make everything start to sound the same.
So, in a way, we've gone back to what recording a band was in the first place: simply capturing a snapshot of our band's life—the conversations we’ve had, the places we’ve been and the people we’ve met.
One thing that's really important with this approach is striking a balance between letting the song take us in all sorts of directions, but then towards the end of the process editing things down and being really brutal and intentional. That's why having our own studio is so important. We go there every day and try to write as many ideas as possible. Fake News itself started from a weird loop Pol made on his guitar. Then we just explored where it could go until that final editing moment at the end. In many ways, the most creative moments can come from deciding what to leave out.
Your use of game engines and projections before your usual live show is another way in which you’re probing the space between real and virtual. How does that pre-show experience affect the audience’s perceptions before you play a normal live show?
The pre-show experience is incredibly important to the way the audience understands the main performance.
We create these short 20-minute immersive experiences where the band performs using projection mapping, game engines, VR and mixed reality, so that the audience's first encounter with the music happens in a strange, virtual environment- more like a video game or a Peyote trip than a gig.
The relationship between memory and music is incredibly powerful, especially the first time you hear a song. What we've evolved is a way for people to form a memory around a track before they ever hear it in the live set.
For example, someone who might arrive at 6:30pm having never heard the song before, experiences it in the immersive experience, forms this strange associated memory to it, and then hears it again later that evening during the concert. Suddenly, that song already carries a personal (and surreal) memory.
For me, music—and art in general—is often about creating a sense of detachment. By stepping away from everyday reality, you can fall in love with a song or a film. Ironically, when you return to the real world afterwards, you often see it differently.
The pre-show experience is incredibly important to the way the audience understands the main performance.
We create these short 20-minute immersive experiences where the band performs using projection mapping, game engines, VR and mixed reality, so that the audience's first encounter with the music happens in a strange, virtual environment- more like a video game or a Peyote trip than a gig.
The relationship between memory and music is incredibly powerful, especially the first time you hear a song. What we've evolved is a way for people to form a memory around a track before they ever hear it in the live set.
For example, someone who might arrive at 6:30pm having never heard the song before, experiences it in the immersive experience, forms this strange associated memory to it, and then hears it again later that evening during the concert. Suddenly, that song already carries a personal (and surreal) memory.
For me, music—and art in general—is often about creating a sense of detachment. By stepping away from everyday reality, you can fall in love with a song or a film. Ironically, when you return to the real world afterwards, you often see it differently.
Pivots' immersive live experience
Right now touring for independent artists is brutal. With many shows taking place in small, grass roots venues. How do you make these shows sustainable with your immersive concert?
Touring as an independent artist is incredibly difficult at the moment, and people are bombarded with the same type of music over and over. It's a simple equation really: If 100000 songs are uploaded to Spotify every day, then the most important thing is to present something in the real, physical world that is genuinely unique.
Everyone is bombarded with content, and so many live shows follow the same format. At the same time, audiences are craving something they've never experienced before.
The immersive show taps into that. One thing is certain—you will have never seen anything quite like it. The fact that we're soundtracking that experience creates a special bond between the audience, the music and us.
Touring as an independent artist is incredibly difficult at the moment, and people are bombarded with the same type of music over and over. It's a simple equation really: If 100000 songs are uploaded to Spotify every day, then the most important thing is to present something in the real, physical world that is genuinely unique.
Everyone is bombarded with content, and so many live shows follow the same format. At the same time, audiences are craving something they've never experienced before.
The immersive show taps into that. One thing is certain—you will have never seen anything quite like it. The fact that we're soundtracking that experience creates a special bond between the audience, the music and us.
Pivots - live 2026
The classic indie narrative of getting a band together, playing local pub gigs until you get discovered by a label and then touring the world is very much a broken model. With the number of small venues plummeting and the money that you can make from streaming plummeting too, it is increasingly difficult to find a sustainable model for independent artists. So, how do you think bands are going to make a living in this new era of music?
Going back to the previous question, it's about creating experiences. That's the one thing you can't download or stream.
As our relationship with reality becomes increasingly fragmented through our phones, it's no surprise that immersive events and physical experiences have exploded in popularity. The music industry is still trying to work out what that means.
We're certainly not claiming we've found the solution, but we are doing something that no one has really done before, and people keep wanting to come back… Even if we are only gradually starting to understand it ourselves as a band.
We are constantly learning what this medium can do. It is totally uncharted territory for a live band. On the subject of how bands make money, making a living should never be the primary reason for making music—you should make music because you love it. But by doing something genuinely different, we've managed to sustain the band.
The old system is broken, and to be honest it's a miracle it ever worked in the first place.
Organisations like Music Venue Trust are doing an incredible job protecting what's left of the grassroots touring circuit, but there are more artists than ever and fewer places to play.
It's a cruel irony that the UK, one of the world's biggest exporters of music, often treats grassroots music as an afterthought. Every huge artist—from Dua Lipa to Ed Sheeran—started in small venues, and those venues are increasingly disappearing.
Going back to the previous question, it's about creating experiences. That's the one thing you can't download or stream.
As our relationship with reality becomes increasingly fragmented through our phones, it's no surprise that immersive events and physical experiences have exploded in popularity. The music industry is still trying to work out what that means.
We're certainly not claiming we've found the solution, but we are doing something that no one has really done before, and people keep wanting to come back… Even if we are only gradually starting to understand it ourselves as a band.
We are constantly learning what this medium can do. It is totally uncharted territory for a live band. On the subject of how bands make money, making a living should never be the primary reason for making music—you should make music because you love it. But by doing something genuinely different, we've managed to sustain the band.
The old system is broken, and to be honest it's a miracle it ever worked in the first place.
Organisations like Music Venue Trust are doing an incredible job protecting what's left of the grassroots touring circuit, but there are more artists than ever and fewer places to play.
It's a cruel irony that the UK, one of the world's biggest exporters of music, often treats grassroots music as an afterthought. Every huge artist—from Dua Lipa to Ed Sheeran—started in small venues, and those venues are increasingly disappearing.
The creative process in action
The video features lots of thermal imaging effects as well as lots of neon geometric shapes and lots of digital glitches. I was wondering how you managed to achieve these rather complex and warped visuals using only your iPhones and low-fi editing software?
We use a lot of analogue tools, such as VHS tapes, alongside countless YouTube tutorials and After Effects, again it's the fact that if everyone can create the exact same polished imagery… especially with AI, how can you make something that no plugin could ever create. What excites us, is smashing together the perfection and precision you get from modern digital tools with chaotic analogue manipulation. Your mind starts inventing things that aren't really there and fills in the blanks. This approach applies to the way we produced the track as much as the way we made our video.
A good analogy is early Nintendo games on CRT televisions. Those blocky graphics seemed alive because the screens glowed and softened everything. When you play those same games on modern displays, they can actually look worse because you can suddenly see every flaw.
Leaving things to the audience's imagination is always more interesting. Mixing analogue imperfections with crisp digital technology allows new ideas to emerge organically.
We use a lot of analogue tools, such as VHS tapes, alongside countless YouTube tutorials and After Effects, again it's the fact that if everyone can create the exact same polished imagery… especially with AI, how can you make something that no plugin could ever create. What excites us, is smashing together the perfection and precision you get from modern digital tools with chaotic analogue manipulation. Your mind starts inventing things that aren't really there and fills in the blanks. This approach applies to the way we produced the track as much as the way we made our video.
A good analogy is early Nintendo games on CRT televisions. Those blocky graphics seemed alive because the screens glowed and softened everything. When you play those same games on modern displays, they can actually look worse because you can suddenly see every flaw.
Leaving things to the audience's imagination is always more interesting. Mixing analogue imperfections with crisp digital technology allows new ideas to emerge organically.
The video ends by the viewer being zoned out of the TV and you’re performing in a home studio against a green screen. Is the ‘machine’ behind the artificial reality created throughout the video?
We wanted the ending to become an extension of the song itself. Showing the removal of all the artifice—and revealing that we're just a DIY project working in a small studio with inexpensive technology—felt incredibly important.
Especially in the age of AI, there's a growing need to show that something wasn't simply generated with a prompt. Every single frame in our video was made lovingly by hand using digital tools.
We loved the idea that after a mental video where we look like we are in some complex digital landscapes, we just showed that we are two friends in a very DIY studio with a green screen we bought off a bloke called Derek for 5 quid.
Also, showing the process isn't just proof—it also invites people to realise that anyone could make something like this, which probably connects back to our post-punk roots. It's a bit of a nod to the Spiral Scratch record where they itemised the recording process, showing that anyone could do it.
We wanted the ending to become an extension of the song itself. Showing the removal of all the artifice—and revealing that we're just a DIY project working in a small studio with inexpensive technology—felt incredibly important.
Especially in the age of AI, there's a growing need to show that something wasn't simply generated with a prompt. Every single frame in our video was made lovingly by hand using digital tools.
We loved the idea that after a mental video where we look like we are in some complex digital landscapes, we just showed that we are two friends in a very DIY studio with a green screen we bought off a bloke called Derek for 5 quid.
Also, showing the process isn't just proof—it also invites people to realise that anyone could make something like this, which probably connects back to our post-punk roots. It's a bit of a nod to the Spiral Scratch record where they itemised the recording process, showing that anyone could do it.
Pivots live immersive show
How did you go about grounding such a huge and often abstract concept as the digital age in small hyperlocal digital worries and actually make them the centre of a song?
The song, video and production all try to use the same techniques they're talking about.
There's an oversaturation of images, sounds and textures. Melancholy sits next to aggression. For us, that's a metaphor for how social media constantly bombards us with conflicting emotions until we become desensitised.
That's one reason we're so inspired by Adam Curtis' documentary HyperNormalisation (in fact you can see how much the video itself was inspired by his films). It explores how overwhelming people with conflicting narratives can eventually lead them to believe that nothing is real and everything is fake.
The song, video and production all try to use the same techniques they're talking about.
There's an oversaturation of images, sounds and textures. Melancholy sits next to aggression. For us, that's a metaphor for how social media constantly bombards us with conflicting emotions until we become desensitised.
That's one reason we're so inspired by Adam Curtis' documentary HyperNormalisation (in fact you can see how much the video itself was inspired by his films). It explores how overwhelming people with conflicting narratives can eventually lead them to believe that nothing is real and everything is fake.
When building an immersive experience for the live audience, do you find that by shocking the audience (whether visually or aurally) you are further making them aware that they have become already desensitised to the surreal? Or is it more to actually physically feel the fragmentation of reality as opposed to just observing it and knowing that it is real?
That's a really great question.
The immersive experience is powerful because it constantly shifts people between the real and the virtual. Rather than shutting down, audiences often begin looking at reality differently.
One important moment comes when people return from travelling through impossible digital worlds—space, deserts, New York subway trains—and suddenly they're back sitting beside their friends watching a live band.
Their reactions are fascinating. They seem genuinely excited to be back in a room full of real people. That moment anchors them back to reality and, in turn, back to the music.
That's a really great question.
The immersive experience is powerful because it constantly shifts people between the real and the virtual. Rather than shutting down, audiences often begin looking at reality differently.
One important moment comes when people return from travelling through impossible digital worlds—space, deserts, New York subway trains—and suddenly they're back sitting beside their friends watching a live band.
Their reactions are fascinating. They seem genuinely excited to be back in a room full of real people. That moment anchors them back to reality and, in turn, back to the music.
How does playing on a floating barge physically fit into the world of “perceptions dissolving” (as expressed by your music). Does isolating the audience on the water change the way they interact with a performance that is trying to blur the lines between facts and fiction?
The location of any show always affects the way the music is experienced.
A moored barge is a brilliant metaphor for the things we are trying to do with the immersive show. It is made to travel to places, but it is moored in one place. There's also the physical disconnect… When a boat moves, your body experiences one thing while your eyes tell you something slightly different.
That disconnect has a lot in common with virtual reality, where your visual senses and your physical senses can contradict one another.
That tension between what we see, what we hear and what we physically feel runs through everything Pivots does. We will be doing a show every month, for each single we release. We will be announcing the next one on our instagram very soon!
The location of any show always affects the way the music is experienced.
A moored barge is a brilliant metaphor for the things we are trying to do with the immersive show. It is made to travel to places, but it is moored in one place. There's also the physical disconnect… When a boat moves, your body experiences one thing while your eyes tell you something slightly different.
That disconnect has a lot in common with virtual reality, where your visual senses and your physical senses can contradict one another.
That tension between what we see, what we hear and what we physically feel runs through everything Pivots does. We will be doing a show every month, for each single we release. We will be announcing the next one on our instagram very soon!
Pivots willingness to confront a broken music industry, but their refusal to let technology take the human element out their art, makes them so compelling. In a world that is increasingly dominated by algorithms, Roman and Pol have done a fantastic job of turning the tables on the digital age. Taking things all the way back to basics with a £5 green screens to literally rocking a Parisian barge, they've proven that the future of independent music doesn't have to belong to the polished streaming platforms.
There is still hope for the music industry as long as artists have the desire to create and audiences have the desire for something new, exciting and something that you just can't get by scrolling through your phone. Pivots are sticking their head above the parapet with "FAKE NEWS" and it is that willingness to try new things that has helped to make this one of the most exciting musical collaborations around right now.
There is still hope for the music industry as long as artists have the desire to create and audiences have the desire for something new, exciting and something that you just can't get by scrolling through your phone. Pivots are sticking their head above the parapet with "FAKE NEWS" and it is that willingness to try new things that has helped to make this one of the most exciting musical collaborations around right now.