After we started Soft Milk in 2015, there was a little buzz going because of our music but also some of wacky on-stage antics. It was just two of us then. We played with some cheap 10-watt amps and wore nothing but ghastly bed sheet costumes.
We’re all born incomplete and aspire for wholeness.
Thrown into this world at breakneck speeds, immediately socialized by our parents and guardians, who we trust as gods with our childish, wonder-filled minds. Once, we all believed our guardians and teachers and elders knew everything and could be trusted completely.
Alas, they were all once chucked into this world too, raised up by previous generations that may have often convinced themselves that they knew what life was all about. But they didn’t. No one did.
When I’m playing or listening to music time stands still, and the outside world doesn’t exist. My imagination runs free. That’s what I most enjoy about being a musician. I like to spend time alone which gives me plenty of time to write songs, but then performing in front of an audience is an entirely different thing.
In the first grade, I carried history books around like spell books. There was this magic about language that I felt compelled to keep close, like it had secret powers that I didn’t have access to yet. Clinging to an impressive-looking pile of books every day at school was also how I prevented my classmates from realizing I couldn’t read.