Cristóvam's 'Fever': A Dreamy Journey Into Chaos & Hope

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Cristóvam first gained international recognition with “Andrà Tutto Bene”, a song that became a symbol of hope during the pandemic. Since then, he has solidified his place in the European music scene, sharing stages with artists such as Stu Larsen and Tim Hart. His distinct songwriting style has earned him prestigious awards, including first place in the International Songwriting Competition and two IMPA Awards.

I had the opportunity to chat with Cristóvam about his new single, working with Boy & Bear, his musical journey so far, and what’s next.

Kat: The track ‘Fever’ feels like a half-remembered dream and walks the fine line between chaos and hope. Can you tell us more about the inspiration and emotions behind the song?

Cristóvam: You know that moment right after you wake up from a vivid dream, when your mind is still foggy and you’re not entirely sure what was real and what wasn’t? I’ve always been fascinated by that feeling. I think when you go through something intense or out of the ordinary in real life, the emotional residue you’re left with the next morning can feel exactly the same — like a dream that almost could’ve been true. Fever came from wanting to explore that space: the in-between, where emotion is heightened, logic is fuzzy, and you’re caught between chaos and clarity, fear and hope.

Kat: What was it like collaborating with Boy & Bear? How did this partnership influence the sound and feel of ‘Fever’?

Cristóvam: Collaborating with Boy & Bear couldn’t have been more natural and easygoing. It was honestly surreal. Having one of my favorite bands join me on my own record felt incredibly special. Their involvement brought a warmth and richness to the track that really shaped its identity. You can hear their signature textures woven into the arrangement, and I think their presence gave Fever a grounded yet expansive feel. It definitely wouldn’t sound the same without them.

Kat: The music video for ‘Fever’ beautifully reflects duality and surrealism. What message or emotion were you hoping to convey through the visual elements?

Cristóvam: We wanted the video to blur the lines — not just between dream and reality, but also between two very real, distant places: the Azores and Australia. The location we chose, with its striking red volcanic stone, felt like a symbolic fusion of both worlds. It served as a kind of emotional and physical bridge, capturing the geographical separation we live with. That distance is also reflected in the way the band appears through vintage TVs that can interact with me, adding a surreal, slightly unsettling layer. We aimed to create a sense of disorientation, of not fully knowing what’s real, and I think we achieved that.

Kat: Your new album, ‘Desert of Fools,’ stems from your experiences balancing family life with a global music career. How did these personal struggles shape the themes of the album?

Cristóvam: Desert of Fools is about that mental space we all slip into sometimes, when your body is in one place but your mind is somewhere completely different. Over the last couple of years, I found myself drifting into that state more often than I’d like. It’s something I’ve been working through — and getting better at — but it definitely left its mark on the record.

Living in a remote place like the Azores while pursuing a career that naturally pulls you toward big cultural hubs creates a constant emotional push and pull. I’d find myself in Lisbon or another big city, immersed in that creative energy I crave, but then aching for the stillness of home and the closeness of my family. And when I’m home, I sometimes feel disconnected from the pulse of the music world. That tension — between presence and absence, noise and silence, ambition and grounding — shaped the emotional landscape of this album.

Kat: It was mentioned that the title track captures feelings of longing and displacement. How do think these emotions will resonate with your audience?

Cristóvam: That’s actually a track we haven’t released yet. But it’s interesting that you picked up on those themes, because longing and displacement really are at the core of that song. It’s a very personal one, and I think it touches on a kind of emotional restlessness that a lot of people carry — especially when they’re far from home or caught between places, physically or emotionally. I’m really looking forward to seeing how it resonates once it’s out.

Kat: How did your collaboration with Tim Hart during the recording process in Australia bring a fresh dynamic to your music?

Cristóvam: Tim Hart has been working with me since my previous record, and he’s someone who brings a huge amount of depth — not just in terms of production, but also as a songwriter. We co-wrote a lot of the songs on this album, and his creative input really helped shape the direction of the music. Getting to make a record in Australia, surrounded by that energy and environment, alongside one of my favorite musicians and a close friend, was honestly incredible. It pushed the project into new territory and brought a kind of clarity and confidence to the sound that might not have happened otherwise.

Kat: Your previous songs, such as ‘Andrà Tutto Bene,’ became symbols of hope during the pandemic. How do you approach songwriting to connect with such universal themes?

Cristóvam: To be honest, I wasn’t writing from that place intentionally. For me, songwriting tends to be a cathartic process — at least in the beginning. It’s a bit like sketching without knowing what image you’re trying to create. You just start moving, and then suddenly something takes shape. There’s often a moment when a line or a feeling triggers a deeper part of your brain, and you realize what it is you’ve been trying to say all along.
I think we all carry things we need to express. Some of it is right there at the surface, but a lot of it is buried, waiting for the right trigger. When I write, I usually start from a place of rawness or even naïveté, just letting words fall onto the page. Then, at some point, the more intentional, rational part of the process kicks in. But it never begins with, “Today, I’m going to write a song about hope.” It has to come from somewhere honest, something that reveals itself along the way.

Kat: What has changed in your storytelling from ‘Hopes & Dreams’ to ‘Desert of Fools,’ and how do you see your evolution as an artist?

Cristóvam: My life has changed a lot since Hopes & Dreams. I’ve matured — not just as a songwriter and lyricist, but also as a person. Some things that used to matter deeply to me have faded, while others I didn’t even notice before have become central. And I think that naturally shifts the way I tell stories. When you write, you’re always a reflection of where you are — what you value, what you’ve let go of, and what you’re still wrestling with. Even when you’re writing about someone or something else, you can’t help but leave traces of yourself between the lines.

I’ve also become better at recognizing when a song isn’t meant to go where I want it to. I don’t force things as much anymore. If an idea isn’t evolving, I’ve learned to let it go and make space for the ones that do want to grow. I once heard Jon Foreman say, “Songs are a bit like kids — some end up in college, others end up on drugs.” That really stuck with me. You have to accept that not every song will become what you hoped, and that’s okay. Sometimes letting go is part of moving forward.

Kat: As someone who lives in the Azores but tours globally, how has your sense of ‘home’ influenced your music and outlook?

Cristóvam: It constantly influences my songwriting. My reality is a bit unusual — living in such a remote, peaceful place while working in a profession that thrives in the chaos and energy of big cities. I’m always moving between those two worlds: one rooted in family, stillness, and familiarity; the other in ambition, movement, and creative urgency. That duality shapes so much of what I write.

I crave the cultural buzz of the cities, but I also long for the quiet and warmth of home. That push and pull has become a central part of my perspective, and naturally, it finds its way into the music. In fact, the title Desert of Fools was born from that very tension — that feeling of being caught between presence and distance, belonging and searching. It’s become one of the defining themes of this chapter in my life.

Kat: Looking ahead, what are your hopes for ‘Desert of Fools,’ and how do you envision your music reaching new audiences?

Cristóvam: What I really hope is to take these songs to people live. I’m a strong believer in that moment of standing in front of strangers and being completely vulnerable, peeling your heart open and hoping it resonates with someone out there. There’s something really powerful about that shared moment, where a song becomes a bridge between your story and someone else’s. If Desert of Fools can create those kinds of connections — whether in a small room or on a big stage — that’s everything I could ask for.