Today, I want to celebrate the release of Fever Dreams at Ruger Place with you all and share a few anecdotes along the way.
I love making music at the wrong times and in the wrong places. I suppose it's a bit of a bad habit. Loud coffee shop? Yes, please. Airports or -- god forbid -- airplanes? Yeah, absolutely. Outside in the middle of a crowded park where I realize for the first time just how dirty my laptop screen truly is? Why not?
When I think about myself, it makes perfect sense. I'm an extrovert by nature. I draw energy by being in the presence of others so, of course, I find musical energy within those situations. I think there's just something about the intermingling of energies that I find captivating. Where are people going to when they board their plane? Are these people sharing joy or sorrow over their coffee? I can never know the answers to these questions, but for the brief moment of time that we share physical space together, I can transmute this sense of presence and attempt to document the feeling of this space with sound.
This tendency of mine, to make personal noise in public spaces, was the guiding impetus behind my new EP, Fever Dreams at Ruger Place, which I released last Friday, July 7th. It's a collection of songs dealing with dreams, desire, and the liminal space between wakefulness and sleep. It was recorded during the in-between times and in the most inconvenient places possible -- by choice.
To celebrate the release of Fever Dreams at Ruger Place, I'd love to share with you this week just a couple anecdotes from its making.
Tension is manifested in the tools
"Death Only Comes When I'm Awake" can claim to be first in a few areas. It was the first single I released from this EP and also the first song I produced from this body of work. In many ways, it was the blueprint from which the remaining four tracks stem. The defining qualities of the EP are all present here: extensive resampling, vocal chops, fast breaks, and big synths. But, for me, the most critical part of "Death Only Comes When I'm Awake" is the vocal production.
To summarize, I wanted to explore the tension between low fidelity recordings and high fidelity processing. The vocals for "Death Only Comes When I'm Awake" were recorded between 6 and 8 am over the course of several days in an untreated, heavily air conditioned condo in the Southeastern United States. This space, while thankfully cool, had a nasty hum and pretty aggressive reflections from the drywall and tile floor. However, that time and space, while my spouse slept, and before the day began, captivated me. I would sit there each morning and sing as quietly as I could into the built-in microphone on my MacBook Pro.
Our tools are often silent contributors to the music we make. Part of my goal behind embracing such "uncontrolled" vocal recordings was to force the tools to reveal themselves. You can hear the room on these recordings. In some sense they are a kind of hard to catch harmony. In some sense, they are my ever present backup singers. The vocals were processed through MeldaProduction's MAutoPitch and Ableton's OTT -- two tools that do not hide anything that pass through them. Why should they?
I will never see you again
There is something about airports that I adore. By all means, there is much that I could do without as well but, in the end, it seems that the romantic in me wins out. Perhaps, the knowledge that I will spend so little time in this space brings with it a heightened sense of awareness? Often, it's the people. The exhausted traveler doing their best to make a connecting flight. The person whose sadness cuts a striking figure as they shuffle through the terminal, head down, on their way to face whatever is at the end of their journey. The beautiful eyes that lock in a glance with yours, lasting only a moment, but each of you share something with the other that you know you'll never understand and will only ever forget.
Many of the songs on Fever Dreams at Ruger Place were started at airports. In fact, the working title for "Every Dream of You" for the longest time was "Terminal B." On that particular trip, my flight happened to arrive several hours ahead of my spouse's and I found myself waiting, just before the end of my journey, for somebody else so that I could step across the threshold and resume life.
As a result, I had time to sit at that threshold and observe people as they transitioned from the otherly, time-free void of the airport and back into a world with hopes, dreams, times, and concerns. People would boom or deflate; giving indication of the world to which they were returning or arriving. Reunions would occur, vacations begin and end.
There are many hundreds of unspoken, unknown collaborators on this EP. Collaborators whose fragmentary thoughts and feelings, projected into our briefly shared space, are crystallized and refracted in the sounds you hear across this body of work.
Thanks for listening
Fever Dreams at Ruger Place marks a new beginning for me. It is the first statement from me as the artist I intend to be. It is less of an arrival point than it is a promise between myself and perhaps you of what will come next. If we continue with the airport metaphor for just a moment longer, perhaps it's a boarding pass? Though, I find that a little too cute for my taste. Regardless, thank you for listening.
Until next time.
On thing I should note: this EP was mixed and mastered by Cecil at mono no audio and I can't thank them enough for their contributions to Fever Dreams at Ruger Place. Their thoughtful feedback and sagely advice throughout this whole process have meant the world to me. Consider having them mix your new release.
Quick Hits
Fever Dreams at Ruger Place is out now. Stream or purchase it here.
Do you need help with your music production or composition skills? I offer private one on one lessons over Zoom. You can sign up for lessons here.
My RM-10 sample pack has gotten a ton of downloads recently. If you want to check out this under the radar vintage drum machine, snag it here. I’ve got more sample packs on the way.