Harry Kappen
“It’s impossible to compare my experience to those forced to flee under life-threatening circumstances.” — A Dutch songwriter in Mexico City makes the most quietly urgent record of his career.
Harry Kappen is a Dutch singer-songwriter who left the Netherlands for Mexico City — voluntarily, with a passport and a plan. That distinction is the entire emotional engine of his new single, Distant Shore, out May 21. The track doesn’t pretend his crossing and a refugee’s crossing are the same thing. That honesty is what makes it worth hearing.
The fifth album since the Covid era, After the Crossing has been building toward this moment. Distant Shore is its most direct statement: a cinematic, mellotron-driven meditation on displacement, survival, and the uncomfortable luck of having had a choice when so many don’t.
When I voluntarily made my own crossing to Mexico, I realized what a privilege it was to have a choice.
— Harry KappenThe Song and What Drives It
Written, performed, and produced entirely by Kappen, Distant Shore is built around haunting mellotron textures and cinematic arrangements that draw a direct line to David Bowie’s Space Oddity — that same sense of vast, disorienting space, of a figure untethered from everything familiar. It’s a deliberate reference point, and it works because Kappen earns it rather than simply borrowing the atmosphere.
The subject is the refugee experience: the desperation, the physical risk, the particular courage of people crossing borders under circumstances no one would choose. Kappen doesn’t speak for those people — he writes toward them, from the position of someone who moved countries by choice and found himself unable to stop thinking about what it means to not have that option. That’s a more honest and ultimately more affecting angle than straight advocacy.
The mellotron textures place the listener somewhere between grief and forward motion — which is exactly where the subject matter lives.
— Exposed VocalsWho Harry Kappen Is
Kappen grew up in Groningen in the north of the Netherlands, cut his teeth in rock bands, and spent over two decades working as a music therapist in youth care before eventually lecturing in an international master’s program in the field. That background isn’t a footnote — it’s the reason his songwriting tends toward emotional precision rather than spectacle. He knows what music does to people in rooms where it actually matters.
His influences read like a very specific kind of record collection: Bowie, Prince, Jeff Beck, Thom Yorke, The Beatles. Artists who valued craft and weren’t afraid of the weird or the heavy. Kappen’s music sits in that tradition without sounding derivative — he’s absorbed those references and built something that sounds like himself, which after five albums is not a small achievement for an independent artist.
He’s been recognized with an Elite Music Award for Songwriter of the Year and an Independent Music Network Award for Favorite Impact Artist, with nominations from the ISSA and Josie Music Awards. None of that would matter if the music didn’t hold up. It does.
After five albums and two decades of music therapy, Kappen has a very clear idea of what a song is supposed to do — and Distant Shore does it.
— Exposed VocalsWhy It Fits Here
Exposed Vocals covers independent music — artists building something real without a machine behind them. Kappen self-writes, self-produces, and self-releases. The fact that he’s doing it from Mexico City, drawing on twenty-plus years of music therapy and a life lived across multiple countries, makes the work more interesting, not less.
Distant Shore is the kind of single that rewards a second listen. The first time, you catch the atmosphere and the subject. The second time, you start hearing the craft underneath — the way the mellotron sits in the mix, the way the vocal performance holds back when another artist would push. It’s restrained in the right places, and that restraint is the point.
Distant Shore by Harry Kappen is out May 21 from the album After the Crossing. More at harrykappen.com.







