Part 2

What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? In terms of what they contribute to a song, what is the balance between the composition and the arrangement (performance)?

For me, mixing is part and parcel of the process. Even if the sounds begin outside of the computer, I am composing/arranging/writing inside the computer, so there is light mixing along the way, regardless, just to make things sound “good enough” while working on them, and determining how sounds can fit together.  

For music that is so rooted in sound as a concept, not tied to any specific instruments, there is inherently a need to pay attention to how sounds are mixed together, as part of the composition process, not a separate stage after writing/composing. What frequency range sound A occupies and how sound B is compressed affect the whole track and whether those sounds work together, so I have a difficult time separating that from the rest of it.

If I wrote a piece for piano (in a traditional sense, with musical notation), the writing/composing, playing/recording, and mixing would be separate stages, but that isn’t what I’m doing. I work by ear and instinct and happen to use technology in the process.

Mastering is super-important as well, which I do see as a separate stage in the process, because it literally is. I prefer someone other than myself to do the mastering, the final touch on the whole, that different perspective that can step back and consider the complete work in a different way.  

Music and the accompanying artwork are often closely related. Can you talk about this a little bit for your current project and the relationship that images and sounds have for you in general?

The union of image and sound is crucial for me. In terms of art for a release, the process changes based on the situation and whether I’m making the art/design or someone else is, but it’s always important.

For the album on 12k, Marcus Fischer made the art, and it was easy for me to trust him with it because I’ve known him for years and love his work across mediums. I thought it would be interesting to send him a painting I made on paper, for this purpose, with the intention that he could tear it up and use however he saw fit (or not use at all) for the collage he made for the cover.



He did use it, but made something completely new that only has shards of what I sent him, which was the idea. He then reworked that image for the live release, Broken Time Can Go In Many Directions, because there is a sonic connection between them, while still being completely different and separate.

I did something similar with the cover art for Falling Close to Memory, an album I released on Anticipate in 2021.



It includes vocals by Trevor De Nógla, and he also makes visual art, so I thought it would be interesting to collaborate on the cover together. He sent me a bunch of work that I could use as part of the art, whatever direction that took.

I took one piece on paper and cut it up into shapes and played with different arrangements, using the chance operation of dropping them on the canvas, on top of a more solid piece of paper and paint. Once I saw something I wanted to keep, I glued them and used encaustic over the top to give it more of a textured feel. That’s the cover art for the record, but also, I have the physical thing still, simply as art.

Other times I’ve tried to make versions of covers for a music release by creating a painting, as an object to accompany a digital release, to concretize it somehow. This is all to say that the connection of sound and visual is important to me conceptually, even if someone only sees a thumbnail of it, or not at all.

The process matters.

After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?

I wouldn’t say I feel emptiness, but it’s definitely an interesting time. There is both a sense that it’s okay to take a moment and step back and not immediately jump into working on something new, and a sense of “let’s start working on something new immediately”.

I take time to reflect and think about what I might want to work on next, look at notes that I’ve written over the years about songs or albums I want to make. I try to initiate inspiration in a way that doesn’t involve time constraints or pressure to get something done. I try.

I often think about how it might feel daunting to consider a larger piece of work (like an album, or something more) but you get there incrementally. You work on one thing, and then another, and it starts to aggregate and congeal into something. It changes and develops. Especially after finishing something, it helps me to think smaller, more one foot in front of the other, which also leaves a lot of space for playing and experimenting.

Often, the best inspiration for me, especially in the in-between state, is simply recording sounds - outside while walking around or inside messing around with objects. It is unplanned, open, playful, and unpredictable. This usually yields inspiration.

I would love to know a little about the feedback you've received from listeners or critics about what they thought some of your songs are about or the impact it had on them – have there been “misunderstandings” or did you perhaps even gain new “insights?”

I always think it’s interesting to hear someone else’s perspective because they can be so varied. Some ideas resonate more for me than others, but that is how it should be, and I never think anyone is incorrect, because I don’t intend for someone to listen in one specific, regimented way.

I love that music is such a personal experience. It’s a personal experience for me to make it and a personal experience for anyone who listens. I would never tell someone how they should perceive something, so there is no wrong way to do it. I’m just happy when people pay attention, actually listen, and if they are affected in some way, that’s great.

I have heard people say they like listening in the background while making dinner or that it touched their lives in some specific way while they were going through something, and a lot in between. It’s all meaningful and valid, and appreciated.

Generally, I think when people listen carefully, they are better for it. I’m not talking about my work; I mean anything. It makes the world a better place if more people are improving their personal experience of that world in a healthy way. I think that is our best chance, if more individuals are better versions of themselves.

Listening carefully, to music, to the world, to other people, is one way to get there.