’90s child

Well crap. We’re now 6 months and 6 EPs behind on posting oldmanboy to the bindle. Sorry bindle. Let’s get you sorted.

These songs are from the end of last summer, before winter hit, before I could no longer get out and read in the park in the afternoons, before everyone left and utter isolation and involuntary confinement precipitated the return of anxiety attacks, emergent negative thoughts, and all-around darkbad times.

There’s none of that in this. This is just a summer night in Ithaca, New York.

reality is what you make it

After making that first EP out of voice memos and laptop synths, I realized I had a pretty serious input problem.  So I went on a targeted consumerism spree and dropped a ton of money on a beautiful keyboard (w/ a MIDI pad for drums) a hyper-cardioid microphone for playing live, and an audio interface to capture it all directly into Ableton.  After much failure and quitting and naked wrestling with Windows’ sound drivers (WHY, WINDOWS?  WHY!?) — now, when I make loops in my room, I find myself at the helm of a fully functional death star.

Please, for the love of god, do not listen on phone speakers.  I mean, I can’t stop you, but you’ll be missing entire frequency bands.

Cover art is by Salavat Fidai (check him out), appropriated and altered by me without consent.  My bad, dude.  To be fair, it’s all sort of stolen from Rodin.

i’d like to stop talking for a while

At the beginning of quarantine I finally got into Ableton seriously, went into a fugue state, and woke up ten days later holding an album made out of voice memos I’d had on my phone.  The art is a picture I found in the philosophic collection I’ve been working on these past five years.  There’s no real identifying information, but presumably that’s a shot PB took in Tibet or Mongolia in the early 20th Century.  Or somewhere else, who knows — it really doesn’t matter.  I’d like to stop talking for a while.

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