Kerem Seçkin shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Kerem, it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: Are you walking a path—or wandering?
I’d say I’m very intentional with my actions and the choices I make, especially when it comes to how I grow as a musician and a person. I’m conscious of the direction I want to move in, the values I want to protect, and the kind of work I want to put into the world. At the same time, I try to leave space to wander, because I don’t think discovery happens when everything is tightly planned. That openness allows unexpected influences, collaborations, and experiences to shape the music in ways I couldn’t have designed in advance. For me, intention gives the journey its backbone, but wandering is what keeps it alive, flexible, and honest.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Kerem Seçkin, a drummer, composer, and producer originally from Istanbul and currently based in the U.S. I grew up with music as a constant presence in my life, and over time it became not just something I loved, but the center of what I do. I studied jazz composition and drum performance at Berklee College of Music, an experience that shaped my musical perspective as much through the people and collaborations as through formal training.
What feels most central to my work is a holistic approach to being a musician. I don’t really separate my roles as a drummer, composer, or producer—they’re different ways of understanding and shaping the same musical idea. My background is rooted in jazz, but I’m deeply interested in how different musical cultures and contexts inform each other, from instrumental music to more production-driven projects.
At the moment, I’m working on releasing an album mainly composed during my time at Berklee, while continuing to collaborate with artists across different styles. I’m also preparing for the next chapter of my journey, both creatively and geographically, with plans to stay active in live performance, studio work, and new collaborations. Above all, I’m focused on making music that feels honest, intentional, and open to discovery.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
There was a version of myself during a period when I was studying and practicing extremely intensely that was overly serious—almost rigid. I needed to be that way at the time, because before that phase I was the complete opposite, and I needed structure and discipline to grow. That seriousness served a real purpose and helped me build a strong foundation. But now I feel like I’ve arrived at a healthier balance between those two versions of myself. I can stay focused and intentional without losing curiosity, playfulness, or openness. In that sense, I’d say that overly serious version has already been released, and what remains is a more integrated and honest way of being and creating.
What’s something you changed your mind about after failing hard?
I changed my mind about the idea that progress comes only from constant intensity and control. There was a period when I believed that if I wasn’t practicing relentlessly or pushing myself to the limit every day, I wasn’t improving. Failing hard showed me that this approach can actually be counterproductive—it can narrow your perspective and make you lose sight of what really matters in your music. I learned that stepping back, experimenting, and giving myself room to explore can lead to growth in ways sheer discipline never could. It shifted how I approach both my playing and my creative process.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Is the public version of you the real you?
I don’t see the public version of myself as something separate, but it might be a simplified version. It’s shaped by context, by what fits into an interview, a performance, or a short moment online. The core is real, but a lot of the complexity—doubts, contradictions, things still in progress—doesn’t always show up. I’m comfortable with that distinction. I don’t feel the need to present everything at once; I’d rather let different parts reveal themselves over time through the work.
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. When do you feel most at peace?
I feel most at peace when the version of me in real life matches the version in my mind—when I’m fully being myself. There are periods in life where that alignment feels more distant, but I’ve learned that I always come back to it. It’s not just a fleeting moment; it’s a state where my actions, thoughts, and intentions all line up, and I feel grounded in who I am. In those times, everything else—distractions, pressures, doubts—fades into the background, and I can fully focus on what I’m doing, whether it’s making music, collaborating with others, or simply living a moment. That sense of clarity and coherence gives me energy, direction, and a quiet confidence that shapes not only my work but the way I move through life.
https://boldjourney.com/kerem-seckins-stories-lessons-insights-highlight/