B-Side Guys

Between Basel’s medieval walls and contemporary art spaces, Alexia Thomas has found a perfect laboratory for her sonic experiments. On “Lost in Space,” she treats genre boundaries like watercolors, letting them bleed into each other until new hues emerge from their intersection.

A product of Basel’s HGK art school and its vibrant theatrical scene, Thomas brings a process designer’s eye to pop architecture. Her work with Swiss artists like Anouchka Gwen and glitchBABY shows in her sophisticated approach to collaboration and contrast, but “Lost in Space” feels like a personal manifesto on the art of getting lost.

The track wrestles with society’s existential anxieties not through proclamation but through atmosphere. Thomas creates a sonic environment where questions about life’s meaning float like particles in zero gravity, neither settling nor dispersing. It’s a space where comfort and escapism aren’t portrayed as weakness but as natural responses to a world carrying “a heavy heart.”

As a member of the FLINTA* collective Forcefield Records, Thomas understands the power of creating alternative spaces. “Lost in Space” builds its own pocket universe where electronic pulses and organic textures swap roles freely, mirroring her seasonal approach to creativity—electronic vibes for summer heat, nostalgic tones for winter contemplation.

The production reflects Thomas’s theatrical background, treating sound as both set and actor. Each element plays multiple roles: rhythms become scenery, synthesizers deliver dialogue, atmospheric effects serve as stage lighting. It’s a complete performance where the boundary between audience and participant dissolves.

Coming after singles “Welcome To Peace” and “Weekends In The Park,” this latest offering from her upcoming “Based on a Dream” album suggests an artist mapping the territory between meditation and movement. The track doesn’t just describe the sensation of living multiple lives simultaneously—it recreates it through layered soundscapes that shift like memory itself.

Basel’s position at the junction of three countries seems to inform Thomas’s refusal to settle into single genres. Her work as a producing coach and collaborator has clearly taught her that musical rules, like national borders, are more permeable than they appear. “Lost in Space” treats this fluidity as an opportunity rather than an obstacle.

From her early involvement in music and theatre to her current position straddling art school and professional production, Thomas has developed a sound that treats disorientation as a destination worth visiting. The track doesn’t offer solutions to society’s spiritual emptiness but instead creates a space where such questions can float freely.

The result is both document and dream—a sonic snapshot of what happens when an artist stops trying to find their place in society and instead builds a new one from scratch. “Lost in Space” suggests that sometimes getting lost isn’t just acceptable—it’s essential.