Chances are you've never heard of Remains, or the diverse array of music and artwork he produces. That's okay with him. Remains isn't big on hype, or fame, or names in general. He's big on other things, though- like making sick, astoundingly unique beats, for one.

"I don't think too much about how I'm going to get hyped," says Yung Hui, putting his feet up on a small red stool in his home studio. To me, he demonstrates the epitome of enigmatic nonchalance.

"What's necessary to me is just making as much music as I can."

He has instructed me to make reference to his given name as minimally as possible in my interview write-up. Understandably, he wants the focus to be placed firmly on the music that his moniker represents, the elusive fruits of the tireless labor that he's been putting in for the last few months. Images of his paintings, which you see here, keep in line with his emphasis on the art being the foreground. But today he's ready for his close-up.

"My name is Remains," he begins, "and I'm a beat maker from British Columbia. I work with samples, in a collage style manner. When I'm working I'm usually completely isolated. It has to be just me and the samples."

Of course it's not like the guy's content to stay in the lab and tinker with his sounds indefinitely without ever releasing his songs to the public. The way I see it, Remains is like a superhero costume that Yung slip into whenever he feels like swooping in and dropping an ensemble of haunting, eerie, yet ridiculously captivating tunes on unsuspecting eardrums.

And though he's taking his time in perfecting and tuning up his music, in preparation for his tentative third album release in a few weeks, he's palpably stoked to release it to his listeners, wherever and whoever they might be.

"I think with the recent stuff I've been putting out, it's been more on the rough side, not so upbeat, not so clean. And I've been trying a lot of different experiments; recording my own drums, keyboard samples and whatnot. You know, keeping my music really open, loose."

Loose is how he looks right now. As he's reclining on his chair, with a grey tee, jeans, and grey socks, Remains gives off an aura of calm. Occasionally he will spring to life and play a song- like "Low Class Conspiracy" by Quasimodo- to accentuate a point of his, but for the most part he's soft spoken and low-key. The heavy bass in his songs, though, is anything but.

"I've been working on a consistent theme- I like the idea of making something specific. With whatever I'm putting out, I'm influenced by different kinds of music and different kinds of experiences in my life. In the end, I want people to get something out of my beats."

Remains definitely gets a lot out of his beats and the practice of producing them. Like many artists, he feels a therapeutic effect from the whole process. However, he does recognize that there has to be a balance between enjoying his music by himself and exposing it to others.

"Bringing my music out to the public, that's also a really enjoyable process. Just seeing the way people react. Overall, it's therapeutic for me. You have to play between being a bit isolated and having your own time, figuring out what kind of sound you want to make, and realizing that, at the end, you're living in a society, and you have to expose that music to that society. I don't think that I'm just doing it solely for myself."

Remains isn't the type of artist who necessarily craves fans or produces music that the industry wants to hear. A strong personal touch is evident in all of his beats, and a lot of that artistry is difficult to translate, especially for a mainstream audience used to being coddled with easy-to-follow lyrics and cookie cutter instrumentals. And he understands that.

"I appreciate anyone who listens to my music," he admits. "People have to take themselves to a certain place to be able to experience it. I'm kind of thankful that there are people out there who listen to it and they get it. It gives me the sense that I'm doing something right."

Most musicians use an instrument or their vocals to create their tracks. Remains uses ACID Pro, a program in which he samples aspects of a smorgasbord of sounds and influences that range from 60's German progressive rock to the Blade Runner soundtrack to boom-bap hip hop.

The methods he uses are similar to those of his producer idols, such as Madlib, the late J.Dilla, and Flying Lotus, though the sounds they each utilize can vary dramatically. Each artist also uses a different toolbox of programs which each have their own strengths and weaknesses.

Though he is actually quite proficient on several instruments- for instance, he records many of the drum parts for his songs from a drum set in the basement- Remains does not consider himself to be a musician.

"Anyone can play a melody," he notes. "To play masterfully, to come up with melodies that are structured, that's a very different process than I'm used to. It's not like I'm limiting myself, but that's just two different things, musicianship and beat making. I think the overarching idea of the beat making process in general is that music is not just music, but it's all about sound, and sonic experiences. That's kind of what I try and do with my art."

It's definitely worth mentioning, if it isn't apparent already, that Remains is a supremely talented visual artist, with an extensive background in painting, drawing, media arts, and sculpture. Currently attending the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design, he barely had time to work on his music at all during the school year, with the immense workload put on his plate.

However, the idea that his visual art is a day job, with music being a true passion, is far from accurate. They are both interconnected in his mind, playing off each other and mutually enriching his projects.

"With music and art, they lend themselves to one another in ways I never imagined. When I started drawing, I really started with a technical background that was very opposite or contrary to the abstractness of the music that I make. So I can understand the contrast. But sometimes they gel, these different ideologies in art making.

One is like you're able to craft things, because you have the hand, or the ability to construct these things well. This is like the aspect of musicianship in art. Then there's the role of being the conductor. You have to really expand your mind in that sense, and think about art not just in the conventional way. I think I'm more of a conductor, a director."

As a listener, it pays to have an open mind as well when absorbing Remains and his works, which defy genres and categorizations. Though for instance hip hop has a prominent role in his repertoire, he doesn't want to cite specific genres as a source of inspiration.

"I always think about it as a sonic experience," says Remains. "So I don't think that it's about genres so much as people who experiment with the idea of sound. That's a universal process across genres. Like Madlib. These people, they know how to construct different sounds and put them together. That's brilliant."

Incorporating sounds from real life, such as idle chatter and police sirens, into his psychedelically inclined music enables Remains to imbue his tracks with a style that is simultaneously familiar and alien. As an artist, this represents his underlying philosophy regarding art in general.

"Art is supposed to bring light to the issues. I think that art is usually a statement about real life. Art can usually be the reality of the situation...whereas real life is very illusionary."

There can be no illusion when it comes to the pure visionary qualities embedded in Remains and his tracks. The song titles alone- such as Ms. Art Gallery, Polka Dots, Nightmare Napping, and Suburb Slave- evoke a hybrid visual/sonic mentality that showcases his versatility and crossover talents. As he plays a track named "Transfer" over his speakers for me to listen, he casually describes the thought process behind the song's production, and manages to paint a scene in my mind with pure cinematic clarity.

"I imagine the shower scene from Psycho with this song. I was almost thinking an anime. The character is showering, and suddenly instead of water being poured out it's like streaks of black. There are positive and negative energies, changes to the flow, and the idea of water being a source of revitalization.

When you shower, you clean yourself, but there's an isolation that reaches a point of critical mass. You feel so alone, that it becomes eerie, ridiculously scary. And at that point there's a whole transformation that takes place. That's why it's called transfer."

Remains absentmindedly bobs his head to the beat, thoroughly enjoying the sonic experience that only his imagination can properly do justice to. As "Transfer" tapers away and dissolves into silence, he muses about the track once more and its relevance to his artist name.

"This song begins at the beginning, and ends at the end. That's the whole idea of Remains. You don't start with remains. You just go through this whole process, and at some point you stop becoming one thing and you break off into a million things.

And then...what happens to your work when no one's around....when no one can see it? There are just remains." With that thought, he leans back in his chair and looks at the ceiling. Remains is on the way up.