My music doesn’t have a dick. Just so you know.
I can listen to the most aggressive industrial, the most brash, dissonant glitch electronic, the cone-destroying crunch of lo-fi loop tech. I can crank that shit up until my ears get fatigued and go, “Yeah, man, I totally dig it! I wanna make this shit!”
But with my hands on my keyboards, what comes out? Soothing, pretty, solemn stuff to make my soul feel OK about life. I don’t understand. And my latest attempt at semi-industrial aggression just sounds like a man in midlife crisis trying to scream like an untrained teenager. Hmph.
I obviously need more time in my studio.