As somebody who enjoys making music, I often find myself getting lost in a series of questions when writing and producing. The overriding thought being “What value does this have?”.
It is easy to deter ourselves from creating art, and putting ourselves in a vulnerable position, simply by talking ourselves out of finishing or sharing a creation in fear that it doesn’t add anything of value to the world, or worse; detracts value.
Due to these thoughts and conversations within my own mind, I haven’t shared an entire song or idea for many months, perhaps even years now.
Born and bred in Bristol, UK, I have always been surrounded by music. My father is a guitarist and always listens to Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath. My mother is not a musician, but she always listens to AC/DC and Billy Idol. At age 8, I started playing guitar. I am now 19 and have made guitar my main instrument, but I can also play drums. Last year, however, my musical journey nearly ended.
I started recording my own music about seven years ago, when I was 14, by myself in my bedroom – like a lot of people do. I haven’t formally released anything over this period of time, but I still organized my songs into albums and made artworks for each of them. I’ve got about 11 of these ‘albums’ which I’ll probably never release, but they are certainly a good way to document my evolution as a singer-songwriter.
That being said, this first LP Postponed Arrivals means a lot to me – not only because it’s the first one, but it’s also the most uncomfortably personal thing I ever wrote.
Hi we’re Limbic, yes we’re named after the limbic system in your brain. The limbic system processes your emotions and memories, two things we believe music heavily influences.
Coming from the north-east of England we found ourselves in a local gigging scene oversaturated with your stereotypical indie bands, a cliché we never wanted to find ourselves landing in. Looking for an original sound to our area we created Limbic. An alt-experimental band that utilises synth to create a balance between your traditional indie band and the whacky world of synth sounds.
I started my music journey at fourteen in mid-2014 playing small coffee venues with my ukulele and guitar. In early 2017, I began to grow tired of my acoustic guitar and ukulele. I then moved on, and I started writing “I Can Actually Speak.” The album portrays a lot of things bunched into one that happened between mid-2016 and up until the end of 2017. I endured failed relationships and projects, moving out really young, and realizing how awful human beings can be. This is where the harsh beginning of “I Can Actually Speak” starts.