Off the Record - August Edition

I’m quitting the music industry.

Big whoop.

Wipe away your tears, for this is a good thing. Perhaps the best decision I made in the last decade.

I’m leaving behind the industry to get closer to the music.

Because, at the end of the day, nothing else matters. That’s why I got into the game in the first place, and I bet this applies to you as well.

I love music, listening to it, playing it… But more than anything else, I love to make records. That’s my thing. Getting people together. Finding parts. Finding sounds. Bringing songs to life.

I do not understand the music industry anymore. Did I ever? Fair enough.

It felt like I did at some point. It used to make sense. There were a few ways to do things. You’d do the work, and you’d get there, one step at a time. Baby steps sometimes, but forward at least. Hard work paid off.

Not anymore.

Ever since the algos took over the world, it’s been getting worse. And now add the big threat of AI on top of that. Because AI will replace us all, as you know.

I’m willing to die on this hill, but I will never be interested in art that isn’t made by a person. Because, by definition, it is not art.

I hate the word, but let’s try a quick definition and keep the ten-thousand-word essay for another time.

Art is the precision of the gesture. Alright, but let’s get a little more tangible.

Art is when skill meets imagination to produce something cool.

Good enough.

Unlike AI, you have a reason for making something. Behind every single decision you make, no matter how small, there is a reason. Your taste hides within the thousands of tiny decisions required to create anything.

Conscious or not, but reasons nonetheless, based on who you became by navigating this whole big pile of shit that life threw in your goddamn face.

Experience, if you want to use a fancy word.

AI will never have your experience; hence AI will never create art.

It’s messy today, let’s blame the heat. I expect more unsubscribes with every line I add, but that’s alright. The more of you leave now, the closer we get to the real deal.

The true people.

The chosen ones.

Fucking heat.

By leaving the industry behind, I aim to work on more music than ever before. Making music for its own sake, and completely ignoring everything else.

Because it doesn’t matter how hard I try, or how much I learn about promoting my songs in 2025. The only result it will produce is anxiety.

I will keep on creating, always, because I need to. What I don’t need is acclaim, nor fame. I only need to show up and make something. That’s the fun part.

Not the hundreds of hours trying to pitch, promote and interact. Oh, and don’t forget, to defecate more content on the over-saturated internets.

We ain’t getting these hours back at the checkout counter.

Do you ever wonder where all the data goes? All the rubbish we post online every second of every day? Think of all these scorching servers ready to blow up, burning more energy in a month than our ancestors consumed in a century.
(This is me making a point, I didn’t do the actual math.)

Something is deeply wrong, and I won’t pretend I can fix it. So, I’ll try and protect the little sanity I have left. I suggest you do the same.

If you enjoy my work and want to make a record, you’re welcome to shoot me an email.

But in the meantime, here’s my advice: focus on the work. Only the work matters. Not its creator. The work, the work, and only the work.

But then again, what do I know…

More Dumb

“We in Purgatory sing fondly of Hell.”

Denis Johnson, 2007.

Ps: please remind your friends & family to subscribe.