Wouter "Wally" De Backer was basically hiding in a barn. While the rest of the world later came to know him as Gotye, the man behind the inescapable 2011 hit "Somebody That I Used to Know," the actual process of Gotye making Making Mirrors was a messy, isolated, and incredibly tedious labor of love. It wasn't some high-end studio production with a fleet of engineers. It was one guy in a converted farm space on his parents’ property in the Mornington Peninsula, south of Melbourne. He was surrounded by old gear, weird records, and a lot of silence.
People forget how quiet the lead-up was.
He spent over two years on it. Two years! Most pop stars today churn out a single every six weeks to feed the TikTok algorithm, but Wally was different. He was obsessed with the "crack" of a snare drum or the specific hiss of an old vinyl sample. He didn't just write songs; he curated sounds like a museum director. If you listen closely to the record, you aren't just hearing a band. You're hearing a massive collage of found sounds, sampled instruments, and a DIY ethos that almost broke him before it made him famous.
The Barn and the Bedroom: Where Making Mirrors Actually Happened
The "studio" was a barn. Actually, it was more like a shed. It had high ceilings, which gave him some natural reverb, but it wasn't soundproofed like a professional space. This mattered. The environment seeped into the recordings. When you look back at Gotye making Making Mirrors, the geography is everything.
He used a lot of vintage gear. We're talking about things like the Lowrey Cotillion model D-575 organ, which he found for a hundred bucks. That specific organ is what gives "State of the Art" its weird, warbling, retro-futuristic soul. He wasn't looking for the cleanest sound. He wanted character. He wanted the dirt.
Honestly, the technical setup was almost laughable by modern standards. He was using an iMac running Ableton Live. That was it. No massive mixing desk. No racks of outboard gear worth millions. Just a decent microphone, a digital audio workstation, and an almost pathological attention to detail. He’d spend weeks—literally weeks—just trying to get a kick drum to sit right in the mix.
Sampling as an Art Form
Wally is a crate digger. For those who don't know the term, it means he spends hours in dusty record stores looking for 50-cent albums that everyone else ignored. He wasn't looking for hits. He was looking for a three-second flute trill or a specific guitar pluck.
Take "Somebody That I Used to Know." Most people recognize that distinctive xylophone-like riff. That’s actually a sample from a song called "Seville" by Luiz Bonfá, a Brazilian guitarist, released back in 1967. Wally took that tiny fragment, looped it, and built an entire cultural phenomenon on top of it. But he didn't just "steal" it. He re-contextualized it. He added layers of percussion—mostly played by himself—and then spent months trying to find the right female vocal to counter his own.
He almost gave up on that song. Can you imagine? The song that topped charts in over 30 countries and won three Grammys was nearly scrapped because he couldn't find the right "voice" for the female perspective. He tried several high-profile singers, but it didn't click. Then he found Kimbra through a recommendation, and she recorded her parts in a bedroom. That’s the magic of this era of music. It was high-concept but low-fidelity in the best possible way.
Why the Sound of Making Mirrors Still Holds Up
The album sounds "organic." That’s a buzzword people use when they can't describe why a digital recording feels warm, but in this case, it’s true. Because Gotye making Making Mirrors involved so many physical instruments—many of them broken or "uncool"—the record has a tactile quality. It feels like you can touch the music.
- There’s the "Wintonotrain" sound, which involved recording the fence of the Winton Motor Raceway.
- He used a "Musical Fence" in Queensland.
- He recorded himself hitting pieces of wood.
- He used old Optigan discs (a lo-fi optical organ from the 70s).
This wasn't about being "indie" for the sake of a brand. It was about the fact that Wally De Backer is a percussionist at heart. He sees the world as a series of things to hit.
The Struggle with Perfectionism
It's easy to look at the success of the album now and think it was a breeze. It wasn't. Wally has been very open in past interviews—specifically with publications like Rolling Stone and Sound on Sound—about how much he struggled with the mix. He did almost everything himself. When you are the writer, the performer, the producer, and the engineer, you lose perspective.
You start hearing ghosts in the frequencies.
He would tweak a vocal line a thousand times. He’d re-record a drum fill because the timing felt "too perfect." He wanted it to feel human, which ironically takes a lot of digital manipulation to achieve when you're working solo. The title Making Mirrors itself refers to this process of self-reflection—looking into the music and seeing himself, for better or worse. It’s about the tension between the artist and the art.
The Cultural Impact: Beyond the Big Hit
While "Somebody That I Used to Know" is the titan of the tracklist, the rest of the album is where the real depth lies. Songs like "Eyes Wide Open" dealt with environmental collapse and human greed, set against a backdrop of driving, echo-heavy percussion. Then you have "Bronte," a heartbreakingly beautiful song about the death of a family pet, which uses sparse instrumentation to maximize the emotional punch.
The diversity of the album is actually its greatest strength. It jumps from Motown-inspired soul ("I Feel Better") to glitchy electronic experiments ("Giving Me a Chance"). Most labels would have told him the album was too "all over the place." But because he made it in a barn, away from the suits, he had the freedom to be inconsistent.
That inconsistency is what makes it a masterpiece.
The Aftermath of the Barn Sessions
When the album finally dropped in August 2011, nobody expected it to do what it did. Gotye was a respected artist in Australia, sure. His previous album Like Drawing Blood was a hit there. But the global explosion? Nobody saw that coming.
Suddenly, the guy who spent two years alone in a shed was being asked to perform on Saturday Night Live. He was at the Grammys. Prince was a fan. Katy Perry was tweeting about him.
But here’s the thing about Wally: he didn't want to be a "pop star." He’s a sonic explorer. After the Making Mirrors cycle ended, he didn't rush out a follow-up to capitalize on the fame. He didn't sign a massive deal for a generic pop record. Instead, he went back to his roots. He started working with the Ondioline, an obscure early electronic instrument, and focused on preserving the legacy of Jean-Jacques Perrey.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Process
A common misconception is that Gotye was an "overnight success." He’d been in the industry for a decade by the time Making Mirrors came out. He was (and is) a member of the band The Basics. He had released two previous solo albums.
Another myth? That he’s a "one-hit wonder." Commercially, in the US, maybe. But artistically? Not even close. If you actually sit down and listen to Gotye making Making Mirrors as a cohesive work, you realize the "hit" isn't even the most interesting thing on there. It’s just the most digestible. The album is a masterclass in how to use modern technology to honor vintage sounds.
Practical Lessons for Today's Producers
If you're a musician sitting in a bedroom right now, there’s a lot to learn from how Wally worked. You don't need a $2000-a-day studio. You don't need the latest plugins.
- Space matters. Find a place where you can be alone with your thoughts. Even if it's a garage or a closet. The "vibe" of your physical space will end up in the recording.
- Value the "mistakes." The hiss, the hum, the weird creak of a chair—these are the things that make music feel real in an era of AI-generated perfection.
- Be a curator. Don't just play instruments. Listen to the world. Record a gate swinging shut. Record the sound of rain on a tin roof. Use those as your textures.
- Patience is a literal virtue. Don't release something just because you feel you have to. If it takes two years to find the right snare sound, take the two years.
The Legacy of the Mirrors
Looking back, Making Mirrors was a turning point for indie-pop. It proved that a DIY project could conquer the world without losing its soul. It was a bridge between the sampling culture of the 90s and the bedroom-pop explosion of the 2020s.
Wally De Backer showed us that you could be a global superstar and still be the guy who collects weird old organs and worries about the frequency of a fence post. He hasn't released a solo album since. Some people find that frustrating. I find it respectable. He said what he had to say, he explored the mirrors, and then he moved on to the next sound.
The album remains a time capsule of a very specific moment in music history—the moment the barn beat the boardroom.
How to Truly Appreciate the Album Today
To get the most out of it now, put on a pair of high-quality headphones. Skip the "Greatest Hits" playlists and listen to the album from front to back. Notice how "Making Mirrors" (the title track) is only 61 seconds long, yet it sets the stage perfectly for the chaos and beauty that follows. Pay attention to the transitions.
Notice the silence.
In a world that won't shut up, Making Mirrors is a reminder of what happens when someone actually takes the time to listen.
Next Steps for the Curious Listener:
Check out the "making of" videos Gotye posted on his YouTube channel years ago. They aren't flashy. They’re just clips of him in that barn, hitting things and looking tired. It’s the best education in music production you’ll ever get. Also, look up the Ondioline Orchestra to see what he’s been up to lately; it’s a world away from "Somebody That I Used to Know," and that’s exactly why it’s worth your time.