WDWGFHIDK captures a bottled-up feeling of being at a crossroad in a relationship—where the other person doesn’t seem to care as much as you do, leaving you to make the entire decision on your own.
In the early days of my music making process, I kept running into the same issue: my excitement would get crushed by the lack of reception from friends and family. The first version of WDWGFHIDK was the embodiment of that problem—was I the only one who liked this strange little song? (Yes.)
At first, this could really mess with my motivation. But over time, I realized there was room for improvement, so I decided to rework the entire track—keeping only what I loved (looking at you, weird elephant sound).
The end result is an uncommon mix of distorted rock, glitchy electronic textures, and my hot-blooded singing voice. And, funnily enough, it became one of my favorite songs—and a favorite of the very people who originally disliked it the most.
For me, ROLLBACK was a reminder that every creative process is different. No matter how much you try to control and regulate it, things will (frustratingly) rarely go as expected. And like most people, I think that’s a good thing.
That doesn’t mean working on this track was difficult or tedious—actually, quite the opposite. I’ve never put together a (relatively) good-sounding production this fast, which honestly shocked me. I was so used to endless tweaking and perfecting, but ROLLBACK just didn’t need it.
I see this track as a brother to WDWGFHIDK, but not in a close bond situation, more like two revolting siblings fighting for attention; while being more alike than they liked to admit. ROLLBACK also feels like a continuation of WDWGFHIDK—facing the harsh realization that pushing a breaking relationship forward is pointless.
This record is super special to me—not just because it’s the song that started this whole project, but also because it gave me my first glimpse of what I was trying to achieve with music: capture something chaotic and unexpected in raw sounds, while still feeling familiar and accessible.
I made this track with my good bud Sam, while we never worked together before, we share the same passion for resampling and destroying conservative sounds. Probably the best example of this is the melody you hear in the intro and chorus—funny enough, the original recording was just Sam playing classical piano. Little moments like that are what make this record special and make me so passionate about creating music.
After Sam laid down the energetic instrumental, I started working on the explosion that became the chorus. Songwriting was a pretty quick process—mostly because I was motivated by the challenge of turning the hectic instrumental into something more digestible, and, if I’m being honest, to impress a friend.
The end result is the energetic and choppy song I call GET LOST.
Calling this a “new song” might be a little misleading—but I did it anyway. CUT ME OFF is technically an “acoustic” version of GET LOST, but I just couldn’t label it that way. Mostly because it feels so different from the original—so much so that I think other records on the album are closer to GET LOST than this one.
And the time and effort that went into CUT ME OFF was way more than I ever expected for an alternative version of an existing song. But in the end, it was absolutely worth it—thanks to the amazing musicians who joined me on this track.
The concept for this song stuck with me for a long time before I finally decided to write and record it. There was something really enticing about translating an “out of sync” relationship into an “out of sync” piece of music.
At first, I leaned a little too heavily into this idea—so much so that the chorus wasn’t even really understandable. But even in the final version of OUT OF SYNC, those disconnecting elements are still there, blended into the vocal bits and the rhythm of the song. And that is what makes OUT OF SYNC so special to me.
Also because I was able to express an unpleasant, mismatching feeling that I was not able to communicate with the other person.
GHOST started as one big experiment. I had this weird idea to make a hard-hitting drop using my old crappy acoustic guitar as the lead synth between distorted impacts. And, somehow, it actually worked (which I didn’t expect at all). After that, I built out the instrumentals for most of the track, constantly experimenting with ways to blend plain acoustic guitar with heavier sounds.
One thing I really wanted to do at the end of the song was shift the entire feel into something more intimate and emotional. I usually end my music with a big, energetic climax, but for some reason, GHOST just felt right closing in a more fragile, up-close way—like finally coming to terms with the words thrown around throughout the song: The person you loved is gone, but so is finally the love you felt for them.