i can’t help but feel like I’ve crawled back into my radio shack walkman to pull all sorts of inspiration from the stuff my 15-year-old self could relate to but couldn’t quite grasp why. i only gave myself one rule for this record: let (what’s left of) your hair down and don’t overthink it. normally, even for the simplest song, i sweat every detail, trying to find a palpable balance between composition, nuanced yet “natural” performances, aural textures, ad nauseam – and don’t even get me started on the agony of committing lyrics to tape. i’m not saying i don’t have fun writing/recording; i love it, but i usually put myself through a pretty nasty wringer all the while.
this time, though, i just wanted to be off-the-cuff and try to bring some fun and humour to my cynicism and malcontent. who knows if it works? only you, dear listener. i keep telling myself that its okay to occasionally write something that doesn’t pull my brain out through my aorta. i say “you might as well have fun now, because, once you start writing that opera about the gulag, you’ll forget how to enjoy anything.” excepting good, organic dark chocolate, of course.