Owelu Dreamhouse on Their Self-Titled Debut: Heritage, Community, and Building Something Real
A thoughtful and refreshingly honest conversation with Nkechi Anele and Nic Ryan-Glenie about heritage, community, recording in a farmhouse with eight musicians, and the philosophy behind their debut album.
Photo credit: Nick McKinlay
Melbourne-based duo Owelu Dreamhouse unites vocalist Nkechi Anele and arranger/multi-instrumentalist Nic Ryan-Glenie, whose creative partnership began in the Australian soul band Saskwatch. Their self-titled debut blends cinematic soul, psychedelia, and Afrobeat, shaped by live collaboration and personal history.
The album marks Anele's return to music after five years away from the industry, a period during which she began reconnecting with her Nigerian heritage and reflecting on identity across cultures. Rather than constructing the record in isolation, the duo gathered eight musicians in a farmhouse to record live over a weekend, embracing spontaneity and collective energy.
In this conversation, Anele and Ryan-Glenie speak candidly about heritage, burnout, creative process, the realities of the music industry, and what success means to them today.
Eugenia Roditis, Musicngear: After Saskwatch ended and Nkechi stepped away from music for several years, what made this collaboration feel like the right and safe way to return? What did you need from each other for Owelu Dreamhouse to exist?
Nkechi: Initially, I reached out to Nic, knowing we had a long history together from our time in Saskwatch. We’d been through the highs and lows of being in a band, and we had shared the experience of the creative process—putting albums and shows together, and rehearsing for hours on end, where mistakes are inevitable. Nic, like the rest of the Saskwatch crew, is family; that made approaching this new era of music feel safe.
What we both realised through the process is that we have incredibly similar tastes, and even though our influences come from different people and times in our lives, there is so much crossover. I’d argue that Nic has a deeper understanding of the music coming out of North and South America than I do, whereas my focus—because of my culture and upbringing—is rooted in the UK and Africa.
That being said, we really love the same artists and share an ideology of "try it until it fits". We aren't limited by the framework of genre or instrumentation, which allows us to be influenced by each other and the world around us without constraints.
Nic: What did I need for Owelu Dreamhouse to exist? I needed someone to push me through the process of actually finishing things, booking musicians, and providing the admin skills of a total wizard. Nkechi has those qualities in spades.
Albeit, she isn't quite as funny as me—(Nkechi: "I’m actually funnier")—but she’s a top-tier hang and, occasionally, almost as funny as I am. That’s what made it a joy.
Musicngear: Nkechi, did reconnecting with your Nigerian heritage begin as a personal need, or was it already tied to the idea of making music? How did that process eventually turn into an album?
Nkechi: I’m still very much in the process of connecting with my Nigerian heritage. I think the biggest shift over the last few years has been the removal of shame; the realisation that as part of the Afro-diaspora and the ‘Third Culture Kid’ experience, my narrative is mine to carve—and that’s okay.
For a long time, I felt like a failure to my culture and my lineage, but as I’ve grown, I’ve realised that culture evolves and moves forward like everything else.
Music entered the picture as a support for this pursuit. Singing has always been the one thing in my life I associate with my purest identity and self. Feeling confident in music and then bringing my heritage into that space has made me feel proud and safe to explore what it means to be African-Irish while growing up in Australia.
The music and the heritage feed into each other; in many ways, they are a pursuit of the same thing: Who am I, and what does that mean for me right now? I think that’s why it was so important to have so many people involved in this project—they are as much a part of my story as they have been a help to me along the way.
Musicngear: When working with historical weight - wars, displacement, feminism, generational identity - did you ever feel a sense of responsibility or pressure to “get it right”? How did you navigate that emotionally while still allowing joy, movement, and dance into the record?
Nkechi: No—life is messy. We’ve been conditioned through social media to display a perfect version of ourselves and a perfect way forward, but that isn't how reality or the world works. We’re all just figuring it out, and mistakes and imperfections are exactly what help us move forward.
The way I’ve navigated that emotionally is by giving myself grace and enjoying the mistakes; it’s what makes me human, and I hope it shows others that they still have worth when they make mistakes, too.
There is so much merit in owning who you are (the good and the bad), and trying your best to lead with care, honesty, and compassion for yourself and those around you.
I haven't necessarily gotten "better" or "worse" at this; it’s more a case of a new day, a new struggle. But the thing that keeps me moving is the optimism that we’re trying to be our best—trying to create something good to imbue into this lifetime and the world.
The music and the heritage feed into each other; in many ways, they are a pursuit of the same thing: Who am I, and what does that mean for me right now?
Musicngear: You recorded the album with eight musicians in a farmhouse, cooking for each other and playing together over a weekend. What did that environment unlock that a traditional studio setup never could?
Nic: Taking ourselves out of the city and our everyday lives as a way of recording afforded us the freedom to relax into the experience and actually enjoy ourselves while we worked.
The surroundings were absolutely beautiful, so taking a break between takes became a genuinely restorative part of the process.
The fact that there wasn’t a single computer anywhere in the studio meant we had to rely entirely on our ears; we were forced to truly listen and feel whether a take had the "magic" we were looking for.
Mind you, we didn't actually do more than three takes of any of the tracks—we didn’t have time for more than that!
We ended up recording fifteen pieces of music in that time, though not all of them made it onto the record. We still have a few tricks up our sleeves.
Musicngear: In a time of AI tools and bedroom production, you deliberately chose live strings, horns, tape, and human imperfection. What were you chasing sonically and emotionally by committing to that approach?
Nic: Well, seeing as I’m still running a 2018 Intel-based Mac Mini that occasionally crashes, I’m not exactly up to speed on how to use AI in the creative process!
What I am familiar with is Ableton; that program is powerful enough to keep me creative for days, and collaborating within it just makes the whole process more fun.
Sonically, we were chasing the feeling of a bunch of people in a room—or in our case, a converted barn. We wanted something authentic, echoing the 70s records we’d been studying in the lead-up.
We wanted to be able to identify every player on the tracks and honour the unique way each musician approaches their instrument. We envisioned it as a musical seafood broil or a gumbo: all the different, delicious parts are great on their own, but when they come together, the aggregate outcome has a unique, distinct, and truly original flavour.
We wanted it to sound like us, not a recreation of something else.
Photo credit: Nick McKinlay
Musicngear: Which pieces of gear, instruments, or recording choices shaped the emotional identity of the album?
Nic: Using Ableton was fundamental in the writing stage, but we used it in a way that mimicked a tape machine.
Nkechi and I would select a drum sample, I’d chop it up to flow through a few different sections, and then I’d track a bass or keyboard take from start to finish while Nkechi sang out ideas.
We’d continue that process until we had this incredibly layered "wall of sound". From there, we’d chop things out and make some slight arrangement choices—though most of the time, they were very broad strokes.
A lot of what we wrote were things that just came to the top of our heads, usually in the first take. Nkechi’s vocals on our first single, "Africa BaBa", was absolutely stunning; it brought such an intense, cool character to her tone.
I remember leaving the room and coming back to listen, and I was totally blown away by what she’d come up with on the spot—the lyrics, the melody, the rhythm, and the power. After we locked that one down, I knew we were onto something special. I was hooked.
We wanted it to sound like us, not a recreation of something else
Musicngear: What were the biggest challenges you had to overcome while making this record, creatively, emotionally, or practically, and what would you say to artists facing similar obstacles?
Nic: The biggest challenge was staying patient and focusing on the process rather than the outcome.
We started writing in July 2023, rehearsed the band twice, and recorded the album in April 2024. We played our first gig in July 2024, released our first single in October, played WOMADelaide in March 2025, and finally, here we are in February 2026, releasing the album.
Staying true to our vision—which included releasing through a label (huge thanks to HopeStreet Recordings!)—and focusing on enjoying every moment of the journey is what kept us grounded throughout.
Nkechi: Initially, my biggest challenge was simply believing any of this was possible. I cannot express enough how important it is to have someone you trust believe in you—sometimes more than you believe in yourself.
For me, that person was Nic. He trusted me through this process more than I trusted myself. Nic is incredible at creating spaces where people feel safe to be themselves; that’s how he gets the best out of everyone.
We also spent a lot of time building the philosophy of Owelu Dreamhouse. We really "went there" when it came to discussing our experiences in the industry—my perspective as a woman navigating this space, and Nic’s as an instrumentalist—and the ways we’d both been mistreated as we grew up through music.
Creating music is fun, but the music industry is another thing entirely. At different points, one of us has had to step in and make a call the other wasn't happy about, and we’ve just had to trust that we always have each other’s best interests at heart.
It’s hard as an independent artist trying to navigate the cost of living alongside the expense of creating, all while trying to maintain your sanity. I’m at a stage now where I know the industry is just a machine. It’s not about having "thicker skin"; it’s about knowing what the machine is and what it takes to get through it.
Creating music is fun, but the music industry is another thing entirely...I’m at a stage now where I know the industry is just a machine
Musicngear: What does success actually look like for Owelu Dreamhouse? Is it streams, live shows, community connection, international reach, or something harder to measure?
Nic: Success is people coming to our shows, listening to our music, and sharing it with their friends because they genuinely enjoy the art we’ve created. Knowing that people are listening all around the world—getting messages from people everywhere from Slovenia to Brazil—is also incredibly rewarding.
Nkechi: For me, success is making the music I want, how I want, and with whom I want. It’s connecting with people throughout the industry, both here and abroad, and seeing a crowd that looks like Nic and me—finding a place that feels safe and like home.
I want the philosophy behind this band to be a success. I want the musicians we have the honour of working with, now and in the future, to find their own success and bring the richness of those experiences back to Owelu.
I love playing live for the simple fact of seeing others in this band celebrated; seeing the conversations and ideas Nic and I had in isolation being shared by musicians and audiences alike. I hope people find themselves in this music, and I hope we do the people we love proud.
Photo credit: Nick McKinlay
Musicngear: Are there any artists you'd love to collaborate with or venues and festivals you'd dream of performing at?
Obongjayar, Little Simz, Kokoroko, BADBADNOTGOOD, Shabaka Hutchings, Miss Kaninna, Emily Wurramara, William Barton, Amyl and the Sniffers, Barka, the Yellow Wiggle, Erykah Badu, Questlove, De La Soul, Liam McGorry, Solange Knowles, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Thee Oh Sees, Earth Wind and Fire, and Leon Michels.
Honestly, whether it’s all of us together on one chaotic tracker working with each of them individually on an ODH tune, that would be idyllic.
Musicngear: If this album is the foundation, what do you want Owelu Dreamhouse to become, not just as a band, but as a way of working, creating, and building community?
Don’t know. We’re just here for the ride as much as anyone else.
Connect with Owelu Dreamhouse
Facebook / Instagram / Spotify / Bandcamp
About Eugenia Roditis
Eugenia's passion for music was ignited from an early age as she grew up in a family of musicians. She loves attending concerts and festivals, while constantly seeking fresh and exciting new artists across diverse genres. Eugenia joined the MusicnGear team in 2012.
Contact Eugenia Roditis at eugenia.roditis@kinkl.com
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