Strings & Struggles
Music has always been more than background noise for me. It has been a companion and a way of navigating a world that didn’t always make sense.
From a young age, I was drawn to rhythm. Raw beats, heavy riffs, music that hits you in the chest before it reaches your ears. Loud concerts overwhelmed me, and fast lyrics felt like chaos layered on top of an already noisy brain. When I was 14, I picked up a guitar, and something clicked. All that sound finally had somewhere to go. I could turn the chaos into chords, into something tangible. It was never about being good. It was about feeling. Music became my outlet, my anchor, and a core part of how I tell my story.
The Sounds That Built Me
Blink-182’s Untitled album lived on repeat. I learned every Tom DeLonge riff like scripture. It didn’t just shape my taste in music — it reshaped how I saw the world. Guitar became an outlet during some of the darker years of my teens, a way to step outside my struggles and imagine a different life.
In the early 2000s, I’d sit on my bed with a guitar, watching Tom record and create. I wasn’t studying theory or chasing precision. I was studying the feeling — the energy and release. I never picked up a guitar to master scales. I picked it up to feel something, to quiet my head, and to turn noise into something I could live with.
The Soundtracks To My Days
The songs I grew up on. The ones that got blasted in basements, in cars, in CD players, when everything felt too loud or too quiet. Punk, rock and roll, indie, old school hip hop — not curated for taste, curated for truth.
Every track earned its place. Press play and you’ll hear the years unfold. If something takes you back or hits harder than expected, let me know — I’m always up for talking music and trading stories.
When Words Fail, I Play
Right now, there’s one track up. It’s raw and unfinished by design. The plan is to record seven or eight more and release them as they’re ready. This is a work in progress.
