At the ripe young age of 24, I got out of music school and felt the ominous void staring back at me. Encouraged by members of the Legendary Toronto based indie supergroup Wolf Parade, I decided to face the music and pursue a career as a composer/producer.
I turned out to be good at it. I was so good at it that I accidentally co-founded a rather large music licensing company.
My identity as a musician laid the bedrock for that company. It was an immense honor to play that role. I was an ambitious, young, wild minded musician. I craved sonic adventure and worked tireless on behalf of my clients to forge new trails. Half the time I had no idea what I was doing, half the time I still don't know what I'm doing. This is the joy of being brave in a creative profession.
At some point the "hang on for dear life" early years came to a close, and life began to normalize. It was at this moment that I looked up and found myself a bureaucrat. It was immediately obvious to me that I did not want to be a bureaucrat, so I packed up my gear and moved it back to the converted garage behind my house.
Nowadays I try my best at being a dad, and the rest of the time I pretty much just make music. Music for motion picture, and music for my band, TENTS.
I am good at writing indie and indie adjacent pop music. I am also very good at experimental film scores driven by found sounds and chamber instruments. I'm good at nostalgia and quirk.
I am good at getting completely lost in characters and feelings and alternate dimensions. I am good at writing music from within those places and spaces. To this day, I have an intense physiological response to that moment when the code has been cracked.
The other day, a director friend told me that my music helps to jolt him back to life after the production process has chewed him up and spit him out. He said my music helps him remember why he does what he does. When he painted this picture for me, I thought maybe it was the kindest compliment I've ever been paid. This is why I make music, to help people remember.