I do not know how else to say this anymore: this is a red alert.

I keep landing here, and it would be convenient—comforting, even—if I could reduce it to a single cause. If I could pin it to one trauma, one diagnosis, one unlucky streak of “the wrong people,” and then feel like the solution is obvious: stop doing the thing that leads to this place. But the problem with convenient stories is that they’re usually designed to protect us from the more brutal truth, which is that patterns don’t repeat because we’re stupid. They repeat because something inside...

I get asked sometimes what “genre” my music is. And the honest answer is: it depends on what part of the fire you walked in during. Sometimes it sounds like a circus. Sometimes it sounds like industrial insomnia. Sometimes it sounds like an old theater that should’ve closed years ago… but the lights are still on anyway, because someone forgot to let the cast go home. This playlist is *the clearest explanation I can give* of what I make and why I make it. This is *the show.* Fifteen tracks,...