THIS IS IT

I’m starting…..that’s it, I’m just starting. Not starting over, not starting fresh. Just starting. For years I’ve been floating through life as an artist in a silo. I mean, I’ve been in bands and played shows on some famous stages. I release an EP every now and then. But even though I dreamed of becoming a successful artist—famous only because that’s the only way you can also quit your day job if you’re an artist—I never actually believed it would happen. That’s hard to admit, but it’s the only way that it makes sense. I just knew I’d be on tour, doing interviews, collaborating with Nine Inch Nails or hanging back stage with The Prodigy. But I could never bring myself to share that dream with the world. Don’t get me wrong, I work hard. I create when I’m not taking care of business. But I never had my artistic “breakthrough”. I never made THAT song, much less THAT album or EP—the song I could imagine in a stranger’s headphones as they closed their eyes to escape from the pain of reality for just a fucking second. Or maybe I did. I’ll never know because I kept it all to myself. Truly, I doubt I’ll ever make that song—it takes talent. It takes sacrifice. I’m not really known for either (at least, not the self-serving kind of sacrifice). “Wanting it” is not quite enough—the harsh reality we all must learn as we’re dragged to the threshold of the middle of our lives (to be honest, I’ll be lucky if this is only half way).

So, I’m setting out. I’m on a journey of self-discovery, only this time I’m inviting you along. I spend the better part of my days thinking about any time other than this moment. I worry so much about the future that I’ve lost contact with the now. I live in this liminal space outside of time, watching the present float past my window like a poor kid on Christmas in a story about the horrors of capitalism or industrialization or whatever the fuck. Every now and then I snap out of it and realize that I’m spending so much time worrying about shit that almost certainly will never happen, or things that I’ll never be able to change, that I’ve been wasting reality on imagination. I’m pretty sure I won’t fix that problem any time soon to be honest, but maybe if I have more specific goals, more immediate checkpoints, I can at least participate in the little bit of life I have left—instead of waiting to wake up one day, dead too early, wishing I had at least tried to participate. At the very least, I can use that imagination to create tangible art in the real world—for better or worse.

I’m terrified of being found out—hiding the fact that I’m a fraud; uninteresting and unoriginal at best. I’m afraid people will actually start to pay attention to me. How will I fuck that up? How will I embarrass myself? Who will I hurt if I’m exposed? So, do I wake up every day and swallow the fact that I’ll never be successful, risking nothing to save myself from the ridicule? Or do I decide to risk it all and share a fucking song with my friends every now and then? Sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? If you look out your window I’d bet you can see my ego from there in your world. That’s what insecurity is; ego. I’m the main character in this fantasy world and to me it’s either tail-tucking embarrassment or the pressure of success. Who the fuck do I think I am?

This is where it begins. Not a whole new life, or maybe…? Just a blog. Just a portfolio. Just sharing stuff I already do when I’m not at work or spending time with my family. A couple years ago I was working on a few punk songs—just the phase I was in, I go through them quickly—and I found myself explaining it to people at whatever different parties and weddings we were at. I realized that I was always telling people about these really interesting (sounding) projects I was working on, but I never had anything to show for it. What was I gonna do, email them some mp3s? You couldn’t even see the bullshit in-between stuff that bridged the gap between techno, punk, industrial-noise-doom, whatever the fuck genre I happened to be into at that moment. I know what you’re thinking, “Just start an Instagram or whatever.” I fucking hate social media, I always have. I know I’m not alone in that. Partly for the same reasons I never shared my life with many people in the first place (insecurity), but also because I hate seeing all the repetitive bullshit and insane opinions that that world thrives on. I’m sure it’s great that we all have a voice now, but it really makes you understand how truly fucked we are as a species. I’m aware of how pretentious that sounds, but I promise I include myself in that gang of morons who think we’re edgy or brilliant. And these days I can’t, in good conscience, support the people that control the worst of those platforms. I realize that Bluesky, TikTok, and Substack are social media, but in this moment at least, they seem like the lesser of evils. That’s the world we live in—you can be anti-capitalist, but you can’t just quit Amazon.

If you read this far, please follow me on Substack, Bluesky, and/or TikTok. But more importantly, subscribe to my mailing list. If I get enough subscribers there, maybe I won’t have to engage in the social media hellscape some day. Until then, check out this site from time to time.

Subscribe to @CorpseComms on Substack

If you want to work on something together, or if you have a project you want me to share here on my blog, contact me. I mean it. I have trouble making connections, but I’m also a very patient and enthusiastic collaborator. Thank you.