#013

the artist interview trap

yesterday, i was Rotting Online as i tend to often do when home alone. i came across a front-facing camera video of a music journalist who writes for billboard. the hook was “music journalists’ #1 pet peeve,” and she revealed it was when an artist describes a new release as “the most vulnerable they’ve ever been” or “extremely personal.” in the moment, i had no problem agreeing with her. those sorts of explanations of the work are vague, and it’s much easier to write a journalistic piece when the artist is able to more thoughtfully express their intentions beyond simply relating it to how true it is to them (relative to past work).

i’m in the midst of rolling out quite a bit of new music, with the first single releasing tomorrow. my mind is fully consumed by how to express the process of putting all this work together, chasing the seed of a concept, letting myself steep in the feeling, allowing that internal flow to lead each session, patch-working the ideas that further push and grow that conceptual seed, collaborating with artist friends to translate these ideas and sounds into visuals, photos, illustrations, physical items, constantly returning to that initial seed to check if what i grew matches with what i initially planted. my mind is fully consumed by how to express all of that in a sentence, maybe even a few - if the character count allows.

the problem with this journalistic problem is that it requires people to actually engage with the work. it requires the artist to further engage with their work beyond the initial expression, it requires the journalist to engage with the artists’ work on a deeper level than an interview, it requires the listener to engage with the artists’ work so they can place the new release relative to previous works. if everyone further engages with the work and the artist is genuine in their “vulnerability,” it should be very clear just from listening to the music what they mean when they say it is “extremely personal.”

i believe that art is an expression of what a person can’t just explicitly say out loud - that’s the point. whether the work is an attempt to know the unknown or tell a story the artist isn’t ready to tell in a straightforward way, it is meant to be the vehicle of that expression, so inherently, it probably isn’t very easy to simply put into words what the intention of the work is. some of my favorite conversations with artists about their work devolve into long tangents for this very reason. it’s extremely challenging and requires another kind of creative skillset to wrap it up with a bow for an easy headline, especially when it’s personal. one might argue that is precisely the work of a music journalist.

ultimately, this isn’t a jab at that billboard writer at all. and despite everything i just said, i do think it is important for an artist to be able to get to that place of expressing in words what their work means. the actual problem is the rate at which art is consumed and dismissed. no one has ample time to think or engage with art on a meaningful level when we’re all rushing to be seen, just to be scrolled past.

well if you’re still reading, maybe you’re the change we all seek. and my first official single release in two years drops tomorrow. it’s called “let’s get used” and it’s actually extremely straightforward, but something i felt i couldn’t explicitly discuss at the time i wrote it. it’s about going on tour with my girlfriend who is also a musician, and observing the way each of our management / agency teams were willing to pit us against each other for their own gain.

and we still fucking did it anyway.

pre-save: https://found.ee/qrtr_letsgetused

#012

#011

robe & boxers listening to synthwave, face done up even though there’s no way i’m leaving this apartment tonight.

about to do a reading for myself, stoned & alone - with perfume on.

i don’t know what this next phase is, but i mentioned something about “calcified confidence” to a friend of mine last weekend. i feel so deeply that i just finished the best art project i have ever made.

i’ve been in hiding for months, if not years. it feels like my move to philly was in anticipation of this. it probably isn’t a masterpiece, but it’s so mine. no one else could make this except for me. and something about that feels like the “enlightenment” i thought i was experiencing two summers ago.

the constant comparison has been quieting down in the last few weeks. even though i feel like i’m still very much in the process of discovering myself (this is maybe a forever thing for me), i’m experiencing the fleeting sensation of getting as close as ever.

i know what this is, i have definitely been somewhere like this before - and i know it doesn’t last forever.

but it feels so fucking good right now.

#010

i know you read this thing.

it’s been a few months since i sat down to make sense of this feeling. the EP is out, and it felt very pointed - exactly in the way i wanted it to be. i’m so proud of those songs, and frankly needed to make them to get into this new phase. i wrote a lot about feeling like i was at the nexus of some sort of creative enlightenment last summer. and i now know that i was. everything has shifted for me mentally and spiritually, and i needed to use this last EP to let out the remnants of past resentment.

and i really feel i’m past it now. soaring past it, even. when everything in this world seems to continue to fucking crumble, it couldn’t be more clear that i was focused on all the wrong things - whether by my own machinations or influence from the people i kept around me. maybe their machinations, but i love to lean into the nuance! and refuse to paint things as good or bad these days. it all just… is.

and so it will be! and that’s the “wave” i’ve been on the last few months. that’s what i’m ready and interested in exploring further. that’s what’s keeping me from complete and total despair.

i recently hired on a couple new team members, and my label .wavcave is back for releases and popups and community. i wilt, i return to roots, i hope to grow again.

lately, i’ve been taking particular note of the times i see an artist i admire doing things online that i just know deep in my spirit they feel they need to do. it doesn’t feel intentional. it doesn’t feel thoughtful. and maybe worst of all? it isn’t even fucking working. so i take note of that. why does this seem like such a reach? what do i think their goal was? why didn’t they achieve it? how could they have done it differently?

i go back and forth between wishing i could remove myself completely from the systems in place that artists feel they need to participate in to be able to make a living doing the thing they love so deeply, and giving in to the social media checklist. lately, i have been trying to take the time to think about it further. maybe there is an alternative? you can still use the internet as a tool, but you need to get more creative about how you use it. everything should feel part of the art. the memes and templates will not leave a lasting impression in someone’s heart or mind. how do you use your access to people’s attention in a way that not only feels genuine and true, but works to excite and inspire?

i keep joking i should be getting paid for creative consultations. i think i’ll use myself as a case study.

excited for what’s to come.

#009

sometimes you need to step outside in 40 degree (fahrenheit) weather in your boxers and smoke half a cigarette, looking at the way sunlight pierces through your neighbors’ windows in the early afternoon-

to snap out of it.

the dopamine rush i used to get from likes after posting something a little cheeky online is no longer feeling very good. somehow, it feels much worse than posting nothing at all.

the artist social media discourse is so boring, and frankly futile to me. it’s why i started the “field notes” and “readme” pages on this site. posting and scrolling on those platforms does something sinister to my brain.

i know i’m not alone in this. and yet, i forget each time i log on.

listening to hiroshi yoshimura in my headphones while i type this. i just received an email notification that my next single is scheduled for release a month from now.

i’ve been thinking so much about my future lately. feeling embarrassed at the thought of playing some game to maintain relevancy as each year passes. feeling silly about the occasional cheeky post reminding people (who exactly?) that i’m still in my studio listening to music i love and making music i love. showing them (who again?) moving bodies on the dance floors i dj for, proving that my work can equate to ticket and liquor sales.

what does it mean to be a fan of someone’s art now? is it engaging in a parasocial relationship with them? buying music and merch? going to shows? patiently waiting for each new release?

what happens when we are without money or attention to give to art?

when is the last time you let yourself discover and support something new? are you even able to?

i’m asking myself these questions as well.

in just the last year, my relationship to this project (and music in general) has shifted so drastically. i’ve fired some of my team, and hired new team members. i’ve distanced myself from certain friends and artists, and found warmth and closeness in others. even my taste in music has evolved, moving toward something more true to who i am (now). but one thing remains consistent: it feels so good to make music that i enjoy. and for a while, i told myself that all the other sour parts of choosing to make this creative project a business were worth it as long as i could keep experiencing the joy of creating. but what happens when the joy fades? and the people you interact with the most are making money off of something you held so close to you?

i have learned a lot about the music industry since i started releasing music in 2017. but more importantly, i’ve learned a lot about myself. my values, my interests, my boundaries.

when i was throwing parties in brooklyn with my best friend jenny before i had management or agents, before livestreams in tiled bathrooms were social currency, back when we’d spam bar and club bathrooms with physical party flyers - it was never a means to an end. despite the techbro-adjacent stimulant fueled late night brainstorms about it, we did not approach our party series as a business whatsoever. there was no intention “to scale.” the only intention we had was to throw a party we wanted to attend.

when i was in middle school making music in my bedroom that would get burned to exactly one CD so i could hear it in my mom’s car on the way to school, my only intention was to make music i wanted to listen to.

when i bought a $150 beginner pioneer controller in 2015 playing to a handful of friends in my bay ridge living room, my only intention was to mix songs i wanted to dance to.

as thom yorke once sang, “phew for a minute there, i lost myself.”

#008

i feel like this will be a long one.

i’m currently in my studio, noticing sporadic flurries through the window my dried up rosemary plant sits on. i just made myself a cup of coffee in the biggest mug i own - a polished black mug i bought at christmas tree shops in the holyoke, ma mall before moving to my first apartment in alphabet city. listening to ambient works by four tet and daniel avery (note to self: these men are allowed such a wide range and so are you).

i guess that brings me to where i’ve been creatively. a little over a month ago, i decided to stop working with my manager of four years. and although i’ve taken some meetings with new management, i’m kind of relishing in this moment. for the first time in a while, i don’t have a sounding board expressing how my ideas may or may not work on a commercial scale. i’m just living in the ideas. it feels more quiet - and this space devoid of noise is where most of my thoughts stockpile. since my last album released in 2021, it’s felt like i couldn’t find them (aside from a brief glimpse at them late last year that resulted in my music for stealing to EP). but the only reason that EP came to be is because i was in so much pain over a breakup that it felt like if i didn’t release something in that moment i would never recover. that EP was about more than making some “heist” music - it was about escaping something dark and confusing, and feeling like i was the one being stolen from.

i’m wrapping up a new EP this week. and i’m going to start working with some musicians who would like me to produce for them. i’m leaning into collaborations so much more, it gives me a sense of community that i’d been missing since i stopped doing my waxx.fm residency back in 2019.

and i think it’s time to start working on album #3.

AND an ambientkitty album, fuck it.

everyone keeps saying “just give it a year” for this to feel real. maybe i’ve been too fixated on a moving goal post to accept that it is currently very real. i’m typing up a blog post about my feelings at 10AM on a Thursday with no obligations outside of the tasks I’ve assigned for myself this week. it’s real!

i’m moving to a new apartment this month (still in philly, i love it here) and will be moving in with luzana. we’re both really excited about making it a creative space. i’m also very excited about having a yard for gardening in once winter ends. the new spot is a walk away from all the art museums and parks. leveling up in this whole creating an environment that facilitates play/expression thing.

today is my “admin” day where i catch up on a lot of things a manager might otherwise do. i’m actually really well equipped for this sort of thing, considering my former full-time job in post production supervision was a lot of these kinds of tasks. tomorrow is another music day - and i intend to finish this new EP.

i think you’ll all really like it. i’m proud of it and i’m ready to let go of it.

#007

i have a pepper plant that i potted over a year ago, in the spring of 2022.

it’s in a small pot, but has grown enough to produce about a dozen very spicy peppers in the last year.

it was one of the only plants i harvest from that survived this past winter.

it does this thing every time it produces a lot of peppers (and over the colder months) where it sheds almost all of its leaves. the stems start to lose color and i feel confident it’s dying. i keep it in the sun and water it as usual and every time, right when i start to question if it’s going to make it, so many new leaves start sprouting and new stems begin to grow. and just as quickly, it starts to flower - which is a sign that more peppers are sure to come.

feels like i’m sprouting new leaves right now.

#006

picked up that book “bird by bird” again this morning.

i’ve been feeling down on myself for the last week or so - when it comes to this whole music thing. the highs and lows, it’s talked about pretty frequently and it doesn’t get much easier to navigate. but searching for inspiration seems to be a pretty potent antidote.

something i just read has me frenzied, in a good way.

in just a few pages, anne lamott deconstructs this idea of writing’s core purpose being to instill hope in your reader. i’ve heard quite a few artists talk about how their goal is to spread hope and positivity through their work, and it’s pretty cliche at this point. but i think i’ve been framing it wrong in my mind. you can evoke a sense of hope without making “hopeful” art. i guess when i hear musicians describe this mission for positivity, i immediately think of bubbly, major key anthems… but i just had an “aha” moment that has me rethinking a lot.

hope means so many different things for people. when used as a noun, the dictionary definition of hope is “a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.” hope is about desire, and capitalism has our sense of desire all over the place.

i’ve been thinking a lot about how i use social media as a consumer. what things do i actually want to see in contrast to what i think i need to see to stay relevant in my field.

i want to see beautiful architecture, unique interior design and things that make me laugh (that i haven’t seen before). because i desire to live in a home that makes me feel in a world of my own. because i want to experience joy through something new. i want to feel inspired and motivated to work toward not having to view those things on a phone because i am already living in it.

i think i need to be caught up with my favorite artists and peers so that i know how to keep up with an industry that doesn’t want me to survive in it.

social media makes us compare our lives to other lives because it is actively working to figure out what it is that we desire.

we gravitate toward art that creates a feeling or world that we desire to be part of in some way or another. artists give people hope by taking the time to create that world and make people believe in it, maybe even convince them they are already living in it.

a couple questions i have for myself right now: how do you make art that expresses the deep disappointment you’ve been feeling, while still making room for hope? how do i inspire awe through my own discouragement?