The Artist Behind Tiki Tube Amps
Desmond Bowe doesn’t just build sound systems. He sculpts them. His Tiki Tube Amps, towering wooden forms carved by chainsaw and finished by fire, blur the line between sculpture and stereo.
“I’m a sculptor first,” he says. “That’s the most immediate impact, the part that hits you before anything else. We’re visual creatures. If they didn’t look interesting, they’d be another stereo. And stereos look dumb.”
Sound is still vital, but for Desmond, it’s inseparable from form. “The vibe, the soul, the power, it all has to line up with what the Tiki demands. Music isn’t just heard, it’s seen. The same track feels completely different depending on what you’re looking at while you hear it.”
Desmond Bowe refers to his creations as “living objects.” Not alive in a biological sense, but in the way they spark energy. “A Tiki Tube only comes alive in relationship, with people, with a space, with a party. Left alone in a room, it’s dormant. But when it interacts, it changes the vibe, stirs the crowd, makes you feel more alive.”
Central to his process is imperfection. “Perfection is boring. Quirks are breadcrumbs, markers of human presence. They’re what connect us, across time, across experiences. Imperfections are where the story lives.”
His latest creation, Otto, looms almost mythological. That’s no accident. “I live in myth,” he says. “Archetypes, legends, universal rhythms, they’re the patterns life keeps playing, like music built on twelve notes. I don’t hunt for inspiration; it’s everywhere. I just try to tune in to whichever chord is resonating at that moment.”
Though his work is musical at its core, Desmond carves in silence. “Silence is how I listen. I’m shaping with all my senses. Music can drown that out.”
What does he hope people feel when they bring a Tiki Tube home? “Joy. That unstoppable, childlike thrill of discovering a new band you can’t keep to yourself. These amps aren’t meant to be contained. Like fire, the more you share them, the bigger they get.”
Beyond sculpture and sound, architecture shapes his vision most. He speaks of train stations and concert halls with reverence: “Buildings hit me physically, the weight of stone, the lift of a spire, the echo in a hall. They’re useful and expressive, practical and mythical, just like the Tikis.”
At home, his most treasured object is a 1968 Gibson E.B.2D bass. “I bought it when I had no money, but my family told me, ‘That’s what money’s for, the rare things that truly move you.’ Twenty years later, I’ve never regretted it. If there’s a fire, I’m grabbing two things: my cat and that bass.”
As for what’s next, Desmond wants to scale up. “Festivals, bars, showrooms, anywhere speakers are usually anonymous black boxes. Why not make them art? DJs pour their souls into their sets, but no one thinks about the speakers. I want to change that.”
From private collections to dance floors, cocktail bars to cultural hubs, his mission stays the same: to bring joy and wonder through living objects that both sing and sculpt the space around them.
For more information about Desmond Bowe’s Tiki Tube Amps, click here
By Lea Carlsen for Medium
Photo credits: Claire Painchaud Photography and SpLAshPR Agency
