Off the Record - HNY Edition

I’ve been meaning to write earlier but these first few weeks of 2026 have been awfully busy.

I’m not big on adverbs, but this one I like. Awfully.

It has not been awful at all. Apart from that cold I cannot seem to shake, it’s been quite lovely.

I’ve been on the road for most of January. I’ve met talented artists. Caught up with old friends. Drank enough tea to fill up an Olympic swimming pool. And experienced a lot of cold, snowy, windy, rainy, and overall shite weather across the whole of the UK.

Lovely, I tell you.

It feels like the first proper winter in Europe in a while.

I’m still away from home, and even though it’s -22 outside, it’s been harder to find pockets of time to lash out at my keyboard. I sit down after a long day of pre-COVID levels of social interaction, drained. Sometimes I’ll manage a few paragraphs. Most times I’ll fall asleep.

Not that any of this is interesting to you.

New year.

New start.

2026 arrived without a warning. At least that’s how it felt. But maybe I never see the new year coming.

The Autumn was pretty intense here, and all of a sudden we’re lighting this damn tree again. Next thing you know, you need to get a new calendar for your fridge.

As we embark on a new twelve months of this nonsense, I don’t want you (nor me) to be tricked. Tricked by this massive amount of time we appear to have in our hands. The time to make stuff happen. To attain them goals.

That’s rubbish. For there is only now.

Today. This is all you have, so you’d better make it count.

Gun it. Fuck it. Go for it. Pedal to the metal. Don’t think about what they’re doing. Face the freakin’ music. Let the tigers through the door.

Gun it. Fuck it. Go for it. Keep your head down. Push forward. Don’t look back. You escaped from Folsom and can hear the sirens on your track.

Gun it. Fuck it. Go for it. Just carry on. Until your legs give out or there’s no petrol left in the engine. Cut a deal at a crossroads at night, and run to the finish line with blood in your mouth.

Gun it. Fuck it. Go for it. You’re still breathing. You’re brave. You’re deranged. You’re beautiful. You’re enough. You’re fierce. You’re insatiable.

It won’t be an easy year. Countries might fight new wars. AI might steal our jobs. I even heard Beyonce might release a rock record…

We don’t get a new year. All you have is today. All you are is today.

No more, no less. 24 hours. Or more realistically, about 16.

That’s all you get.

Your life is 16 hours. If you’re lucky, you might get to do it all again tomorrow. But nothing’s granted.

What do you do with them?

Go.

Bubbling

Tango

Multi-instrumentalist Jennifer Baranick is the creative force behind Broken Down Golf Cart. An Ottawa native, she’s been calling Liverpool home for several years now. A talented writer and musician, she produces her songs and animates her music videos. She also plays in the acclaimed bands Tits Up and European Taxis.

How do you like to present yourself?

I guess I’m a DIY producer for myself, and I animate. I try to make everything myself for this project. I’m in other bands and we work with other people, which is really nice and a relief sometimes, coz you know, I don’t have to do it! But I’m a bit of a loner, and there’s nothing better than sitting there and making your own music.

I do like the sound that comes from maybe not being an absolute professional. That’s kinda what makes it art for me. It’s a source of therapy. People have said before, why don’t you go to a producer, it would sound so much better, have other ears on it, this and that. People have suggested it since I started. They don’t say it as much now, coz you get better. I just really enjoy that.
So DIY artist, animator… I love to challenge myself to make weird art.

You’re a multi-instrumentalist, but what started the journey? What was your first instrument?

My dad forcing me to do piano lessons from a young age. I learnt how to read sheet music a long time ago. I can still read. I think I stopped because I embarrassed my parents too many times at recitals: I didn’t practice enough.

Then I did some summer camps, played saxophone with the band camp, stuff like that. I did that for three years. I also played violin at school.

I’m dangerously mediocre at multiple instruments. Although I’m alright at guitar now, and I can play bass alright, a bit of keys if I want to.

I think as long as you’ve got an ear for building over things, you don’t have to be technically fucking amazing. All that exposure to random things, your brain just starts getting how they work. Not be brilliant, but enough to get by. And work with other people who are better, and make beautiful art.
And if I sit around, I can do some really shitty weird drums. That’s about it. Takes a while though. *laughs*

How do you pay the rent?

I have an admin job, 9 to 5. It’s not a career, but it’s a job. So at the end of the day, I can still come home and I want to make something.

If I was doing something too intense, I may be too tired at the end of the day. It’s a sweet job. I enjoy the people I work with, and I have weekends off for all the gigs and art I love. It’s nice, it works for me.

The music scene in Liverpool is great.

Yeah, it is cool. It’s very different from where I’m from, in Ottawa. I moved here a while ago. I’ve settled now, which is nice. I’m here for good.

But where I'm from, the scene was just kind of depressing. It's a big city, it has a lot of people in it, but there wasn't a lot of venues by the time I left. A lot of them were closing down. And if you see any touring band, whether they're huge or like mid-size, the only places they really tour in Canada is Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver. They might do like Edmonton, but that's all you ever hear about.

No one goes through my city anymore. Smaller indie bands stopped going, because we only have a stadium and then like two little places. It's not worth it for people who are touring from out of the country to drop in in Ottawa and have like 10 people watch. Because that's actually how the scene would be, even if you were probably mid-famous.

Anyway, very depressing. So now, here, it's quite nice. Mind you, there was a bit more places before COVID, but I think it's starting to grow again. People are opening up and stuff. So it's healing. We all took a hit in the music scene when that happened.

What’s on the front burner?

Sometimes I want to get weird equipment. I want a theremin. And running my stuff through a tape machine. I’ll get around to doing that.

Getting weirder with my gear, understanding better. You can do more, you can do more. I bought this book, Recording Unhinged by Sylvia Massy. I’m excited to get to it.
Not expensive things, but get quirky shit. It’s in the back of my mind. I feel like I could play it weirder, play it not so safe.

Is there a day in your life you’d like to re-live? It can be music related, but it doesn’t have to be.

If it was a gig, I'd say playing Rebellion with Tits Up. That was sick. It's a massive punk festival in Blackpool. They hold it in the Winter Gardens, which is this massive, old building, with multiple massive stages. There's like a ballroom stage, it's so fucking fancy.

But for a few days in the summer, it's full of punks.

In Tits Up, I play guitar and sing some background vocals. Amanda is the drummer, she’s actually the drummer in Broken Down Golf Cart too. We're in each other's bands. She's in my band and she harmonises with me and plays, and then I'm in her band and I harmonise with her. And play the crazy fucking riffs she makes me play. She's insane. She's so good at writing.

Playing those gigs was like, holy shit. The first year we were like, that's a lot of people. And then the second year we played it, we're like, that's a fucking lot of people. Cause we were the first on! But then they opened the doors and we just saw people flooding down to watch. I was like, whoa!

So that, if I could relive that. But I also would like to just do it again. We didn't go back this year, we've been quiet for a bit, but now we're releasing stuff again.

And then if it was personal, maybe doing my first stop motion or first cartoon when I had a bit more time to draw. Stuff’s a bit harder when you have less time. But I wish I could still do a music video a month, but I can't, it takes a lot of time.

I used to do 12 songs a year, a single every month. But then I started doing freelance for other people and as much as I loved it, it kinda sucked my creativity out. My own art was suffering a bit. I didn't have time, and now I work full-time, so... I'm hoping to do a music video every two months.

I did a little EP last year, which was just a challenge to put out five songs altogether. I was kind of scared of that. It was always like single, single, single. I like working on one thing and passing it off. But often that means that maybe between the months, they all kind of sound a little different, depending on how you felt mixing them.

Yeah, it’s different. You’re not putting them in the context of a thing.

Yeah. So it was a little challenge for myself and that was fun. I didn't expect much out of it, but some people loved it. But it was just old songs that I don't really care about. I'm not gonna play them live. They just needed to go out.

But now I'm working on two albums. One's got old songs that are kind of like, I don't know, dirty country, folky, psyche, weird shit. And then the other one, it's got like a bit of shoegaze and spacey grunge, more like what I write now.

So yeah, two albums coming, one is me now, one is me before.

Where does the fire come from?

I don’t know. It just feels really good to make music, write songs. I love words. I really love poetry. And I love singing, and I love music, so I think that was always important to me.

I’m sure you too, I was always this loner kid with a CD player on the bus, a little piece of shit one that kept skipping. Music just feels so good to listen to. It feels so good to make, that’s where it came from. When I started, I was only using Garageband and a keyboard, but I wanted more. How do you make more? I had no idea.

I always wrote, I always sang in the shower. It feels so good to sing, little melodies. It physically feels nice, to hear and write. I think that’s where it comes from, it just feels so nice. I love making it. It’s therapeutic.

I feel a little rush playing gigs too, it’s nice. When I first started, I didn't wanna play live. I just wanted to make music and make weird videos and put them online. I was like, yeah, that's it.

And then I played my first Broken Down Golf Cart gig, maybe six years ago, and I was like, whoa. I was so fucking scared. I was such a bedroom, like strictly bedroom artist…My fingers just weren't working. I was like, oh my God, people are gonna watch me playing this. Aaaaaaah!
I swear we played the songs like sooo much slower, coz I was so nervous. I was like, gotta get it, it's gonna be fine.

Now I get on stage, I still get that rush, but I can actually have fun. Before I was like, God, I'm gonna fuck it up. Now, it’s more even if I do fuck it up, it won't be that bad. Coz I kind of know, I'm all right now, and it's starting to feel fun. It's scary and you gotta work. But once you relax enough on stage, you can actually have fun. And have that slight confidence. But I mean, it's always scary…

Connect with Jennifer on Instagram so that you don’t miss her two upcoming releases with Broken Down Golf Cart.

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