He has participated in L/M as a singer and keyboardist and currently in Madd Comrades as a bassist.
He likes The Cocteau Twins, Stephin Merritt, Soul Coughing, My Dad Is Dead, Ultra Vivid Scene, The Sea and Cake, The Judy’s, The Breeders, Prefab Sprout, and listens to Air when he runs out of ideas.
Welcome to a tiny corner of the internet where, if luck has it, I can have your attention for a fleeting moment. You actually came here and that is fantastic. I have a few slightly condescending questions and you are free to internally answer.
Do you read things? All the way through? Did it ever interest you at all that reading things all the way through would yield some kind of gem that you would not have ever experienced unless you had the patience to read things entirely through, not even paying attention the whole time? Good.
What about listening to stuff? Do you listen to whole albums? What about EP’s? Do you do that? The whole thing? You fold your laundry to suggested long form album listening, right? Bands your friends told you about? Clean your room, break down your bicycle, sew your custom made dresses, hammer your jewelry, solder your guitar pedals, change out your bass cabinet speakers, edit your photography, weave your blankets, and write your poetry with an artist in mind and a few albums queued up to soundtrack the whole thing? What about shifts at work? Is your workplace somewhere you can listen to music out loud? Do you exploit this period to crank out whole albums? I bet. That is why you are here.
I would like to try and translate my experience in Austin, Texas to you as accurately as possible in regards to music. Musical data comes as a full force onslaught, and as someone who tries to catalogue things mentally as I hear/experience them it is a fucking nightmare. There are entire planets of musical influence of which you are not aware. “Holy shit, you’ve never hear of _________ ________?!” This should be on Austin’s musical class’s gravestone.
My circle of friends are fantastically artistic and have wildly differentiated views on what artistically inspires them. We discuss this when we see one another at our shows, get high really late at night, assemble parties or get together or whatever the fuck fun we can have between scrounging a living in a city that continues to be anointed “The Coolest City of 201*” and forced to churn out service at the alter of digital hip-consumerism on an inverted schedule to your own. We usually work weekends and holidays and provide a negative-film image of a proper urban lifestyle that easily lends itself to long term dreams. Fun, but structurally inside out. Are you thirsty? Great, our mouths are on the end of the hose.
The purpose of Born In The Wild is to chronicle the scrappers who play and listen and have nothing but truly noble goals in mind when presenting their own personal image of musical influences. Do they care what you know about music, ultimately? No. Is there a true market in being an outright absurdist? The application of influences in real time to no fanfare and very little critical acclaim is my favorite thing to witness as a music consumer. The exciting part is that sometimes complete abandonment of popular culture yields its own audience. Do we want an audience? Do you want an audience? Doesn’t everyone?
It’s refreshing to know that one can consume music on one’s own as an individual island. It’s equally refreshing to know that one can depend on others to do this without another’s input whatsoever. These are your compatriots. I want to expose this multifaceted universe and walk you through it with interviews, audio links, and photos.
Here is my first offering with wide-eyed intensity and a smile:
Born In The Wild 