#2 - Something in the Sky
Art doesn’t exist in a bubble. Context makes all the difference. I love the band Meshuggah. Seeing them live was one of the most primal, wild, mystical experiences of my life. The energy felt like an ancient Viking portal of death and rebirth pulling thousands of sweaty apes into its warm, horrifying wrath. If you think I'm exaggerating then you haven't seen Meshuggah. It's fucked up. Zam was in the chaos with me and couples who mosh together, splosh together. I couldn’t find a rhyme so just pretend it’s romantic.
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Meshuggah was peak experience, life changing kinda shit, but I would never put their tunes on in the background while enjoying a cozy dinner with my mom. The same art that gave me bliss in one scenario would irritate me in another. The value of the art is determined by the context of the moment we consume it.
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A comedian could spread joy and laughter in one room then take those exact same jokes to a different room and ruin everything. A pop up comedy show in a restaurant has the potential to destroy dinner. A daughter hasn’t seen her mom in 3 months because she moved away for college. They’re finally sitting down to catch up over some yummy food. Except some buffoon is yelling about his foreskin on a microphone. It doesn’t matter if it’s the best foreskin joke you’ve ever heard, the context is wrong.
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We know that context matters when consuming art.
How much does context matter when creating it?
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I think for every artist it’s different. I think some people can keep turning out the same style of expression regardless of what’s going on in their life. I actually admire that level of dedication to a form. Meshuggah is a perfect example of that.
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I’m just not built in that way. I can’t make just 1 genre because life doesn’t feel like just 1 genre. I need to explore a variety of vibes because that reflects the reality of my inner context. It makes me very bad at establishing a fixed sound or brand but I can’t help it.
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After many burnouts I’ve learned this. I’m a human being before I’m an artist. I’m not interested in being tortured over making some perfect thing. Yes if you want a solid final product you need to work at it, but the final product is such a small piece of my relationship with creativity.
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Art makes my life better. I don’t ruin myself to make better art. Art is just a process that enriches my life. It works for me, not the other way around. There are obstacles and challenges in the process that can be frustrating and difficult. I’m not saying don’t dig in and push through that. Working to improve makes it fulfilling, teaches you lessons, and nudges you into a deeper flow state. I’m just not interested in sabotaging the entire balance of my life for this shit.
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Exploring different vibes allows me to sustain passion in the process. And the process is what makes my relationship with creativity.
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Something in the Sky started out as an idea on the piano and the situation of my life turned it into an experiment - make a simple love song for my parents. Something I’ve never done.
Shout out to Dusty of Fish in a Birdcage for the epic cello. Thanks for helping record the cello Joshy mister man.
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My parents loved to travel and that got passed down to me. My parents taught me the value of packing your bags on going on a quest. Before Zam and I went backpacking around Colombia for 6 weeks, I knew I needed to write a song to my parents expressing my gratitude to them. I wanted to thank them for giving me a perspective on travel and acknowledging that a piece of them would be with me everywhere I go.
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I also saw it as a challenge. Oh you express yourself through music? Well then why don’t you express some love for the people who made you, mister shit head. Take a break from your strange existential death poems and tell your parents you love them, you fuggin try hard dork.
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My dad and I had some tough years, and lots of my 20s was me sorting through that shit in my head. By the time I turned 30 I sorta just felt like - no one is perfect, he tried his best, he’s great in so many ways, create healthy boundaries, focus on the good and be grateful. Overall it worked. The last few years of our relationship were solid and full of love. Before you imagine this as some quaint story of forgiveness, peace, and eternal love just know it was plenty messy with lots of fuck-offs along the way.
But the fact remained, I was sending this bastard a love song.
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I didn’t want to wait until the official release for my parents to hear the song. I sent it to them in January 2024 before we departed to Colombia. Dad said it made him cry. What a bish.
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Months later he was having a particularly hard time and instead of us fighting like the ol’ days, I decided to just be his buddy and support him the best I could. I sent him the song again and reminded him that his family loved him very much. He cried again. What a pussy.
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Every year my parents would invite Zam and I to go meet up with them in Mexico for 2 weeks. I always had some excuse. Money is tight. Too busy. Fill in the blank. The real truth was I was nervous about spending 2 weeks with my dad. Seemed like a recipe for those fuck-offs to return to the equation.
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But lately we had been super solid. So I bought Zam and I 2 tickets to Mexico and called my parents to tell them we were excited to spend some time in the sun with them. That phone call was Oct 8th. Dad died 3 days later. It was the last time I heard his voice and he seemed really happy that we were making the trip.
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Knowing this song helped my dad feel my love before he passed away means a lot to me. It helped me process forgiveness and gratitude for my creators. I don't really give a shit what it means for anyone else.
Tell your people you love them.
Go on the trip.
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