Interview: Brock Van Wey (aka BVDUB)

Interview: Brock Van Wey (aka BVDUB)

Ambient and electronic music may have a reputation for some as being nice relaxing music that you can put on to escape from life, but the music of Brock Van Wey (aka bvdub) is, in every way, just a little bit too off for this purpose. The best thing you could say about his music is that it can’t simply be ignored or merely listened to casually: it’s just a little bit too intense, too sad and wistful. Brock Van Wey, who has classical training, is a little more like a composer using the tones, tools and textures of the ambient/electronic genre to create compositions as beautiful and sophisticated as any. His music may not be what you expect, but it’s highly prized by those who cherish the genre and recognize Brock Van Wey’s unique voice. It may seem daunting to begin listening to an artist as prolific as Brock Van Wey, but the truth is that any release of his makes for a fine entry, as do his words in this interview, in which he offers a very genuine and candid discussion of his creative process and the meaning of his music.

You moved to China in 2001, and in interviews, you described this transition as similar to beginning a new chapter of your life. How did you know that you needed to make that change, and how important was it to put distance between yourself and your previous life in order to move forward on a personal and creative level?

I was, and still am to some extent, a very impetuous person, and someone whose decisions are largely guided by emotion. If I’ve had enough of something, I’ve had enough – and it’s time to end whatever it is, that second. This was what happened with the state of things in San Francisco at that time, and the decline of underground music culture in favor of endless hordes of jerkoffs who just wanted to use music, DJing, and parties to get laid and have delusions of ‘fame.’ I fought against it for many years, but honestly, it was a losing battle, and at a certain point, I just realized there was hardly anyone left in San Francisco who cared anymore. The underground was gone… and fighting a losing battle over and over wasn’t going to bring it back. So all I could do at that point was, as you said, put distance between myself and that life. It was just too hard a reality to live with.

So at the time, I was learning Chinese, and fostering an ever-growing interest in Chinese culture and history (the latter of which all flies out the window once you actually live here), and I just felt there was nothing left for me in San Francisco anymore – so I basically cast off everything that had to do with the life I had lived (including all my records, which I will regret to my dying day), and moved to China in pursuit of a new one. It was admittedly an overly-romanticized endeavor, and honestly I didn’t really know what exactly I was expecting the move to accomplish, but when you rely on emotion instead of reason, you don’t really think about such things – not that ‘reason’ can predict the future anyway.

It was a move aimed wholly at a personal rebirth, rather than a creative one. My original intention was to leave the world of music behind forever – but obviously, that didn’t happen. Deep down, I knew there was no way it could. It’s everything I am.

Your trip to China predated your earliest music, but earlier you were a DJ. Can you talk about how the experience of that trip transformed you creatively and how you began to start creating your own music?

I think moving to China the first time not only made me infinitely more in tune with myself (I moved here completely alone, not knowing a single soul, and never setting foot here before), but I think it also transformed my own relationship with music. Though music has always been the most important thing in my life, and something that is more personal than anything, back when I was DJing, throwing parties, etc, it also had much more of a communal role, and was related to many parts of my surroundings, and the underground movement during those years. When I moved to China, and took away those surroundings, I began to form a quite different connection with it, as it took on a much more, for lack of a better word, one-to-one relationship.

Under those kinds of circumstances, though I had left the ‘scene’ that had surrounded the music for all those years, the music itself took on an even deeper meaning, and was an even bigger part of my identity than it was before, which honestly I wouldn’t have even thought possible.

Back when I DJed I, like most DJs, had all kinds of ideas and flights of fancy about tracks I would make, but had never sat down and tried to turn any of those ideas into reality, mainly because I was always convinced that doing so would rob all the magic out of it. I had never expected that actually, the diametric opposite was true.

Taking myself out of the ‘scene’ that had, of course, brought electronic music into my life, was actually the thing that made it possible to begin to create it myself. I think the even more personal relationship with it that began to blossom as a result of my connecting with it in a kind of musical vacuum, caused my previous abstract flights of fancy to begin to take on much more concrete forms, and with that, my desire to at least attempt to bring them to reality. One of my best friends, a sound engineer and artist as well, was kind enough to take a massive chunk of time out of his own life, and a lot of sleepless nights, teaching me the basics of using my first combination of hardware and software, and then I ran with it from there. At first I thought “Man, I should have been doing this all along. What the hell was I thinking?” but really, it’s likely one of those things where everything needed to converge on that moment. Anything I make is a culmination of everything in my life to that point… so whatever I make now, I couldn’t have made it ten years ago, even with the same musical knowledge, because I hadn’t lived the same life yet. So really, in many ways, waiting until I did was probably the way it should have been.

Did you have any experiences with music in China that influenced you?

Once in a blue moon music I hear in China will influence me, but quite frankly, the music I make while living here is usually made in spite of my surroundings, rather than the converse. Modern China as a whole places zero value on music. It’s mostly just seen as something to sing to in karaoke, play once in a while in the car in the background, or something as pure transient entertainment, not something that holds any deeper meaning. To be fair, it could be due in part because the music here is so heavily controlled that it basically all sounds the same, and tells the same generic handful of stories over and over. For the vast majority of people, while they may like the way a certain song sounds, it holds very little if any emotional value, and it’s nothing they can’t live without. Though there are surely countless people in China for whom music means something, I personally literally know one. Yes, one.

China, as anyone who lives here knows, is the most materialistic society on the face of the earth. If it doesn’t make money or show off your status to others, it’s basically not important. Of course not everyone here subscribes to that principle, don’t get me wrong, but this ideal encompasses most of modern Chinese society. So music (I’m not talking about pop music, which again, is about making money), just like nearly all the arts, from audio, to visual, have all but vanished. A small caveat though, and that is that I live in a very small, conservative city. I know that there are quite massive music scenes in large capital cities like Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, etc, and actually I did a show in Shanghai before, and was absolutely shocked at how many Chinese fans traveled from far and wide to hear my set. I had absolutely no idea that many Chinese people knew anything about my music – and actually, in recent years, the number is growing quite rapidly. But the fact is, phenomena like those in the massive capital cities are exceptions, not the rule, and, like most countries, the majority of China is made up of cities like the one I live in, not Beijing or Shanghai. But with the youth of China having so many new ideas and hungering for so many new things, who knows, maybe in the future, much of what I said will change. Here’s to hoping.

Since you’ve started releasing music, you have been incredibly prolific, so much so that newcomers might be a little daunted as to where to start. How would you describe the different phases of your work?

I agree it could definitely be daunting if you looked at my whole discography, especially in the last few years, and wondered where to start. I think that’s a tough one, because my music has gone through some definite, though (in my opinion) natural transformations considering both my background and the nature of what I make. So really, it depends on whether you are the kind of person who can relate to 80 minutes of completely beatless music, or someone who needs some sort of rhythmic structure, as over the years, my music has twisted and turned through both, and much of the time, is a mix of the two. Really, as anyone who really understands what I make and why I make it will tell you, I make music only for the emotion. How it comes out as a result is really pretty accidental. The emotion is first and foremost. So I think whether something I make is beatless, has beats, is fast or slow, if you get what I make, you will get it. If that makes sense. The phases themselves happen naturally, as a result of whatever emotional state I am in that I need to let out. I never sit down and try to make any certain “kind” of music. What happens, happens. But I think there is a natural ebb and flow, and series of phases to anyone’s work that comes from not only the continuum of what you’ve been working on, but the rhythm and flow of your life.

That being said, I would say it’s the releases in the last couple/few years that showcase a much more heightened and distilled sense of what my music is about, and my ability to compose precisely what I want to say, so I would say things within that time period are the best representations. Of course, like most artists, my path is a continual one, so I always feel like whatever I just made is my best yet, because I’m always striving to push myself and my composition skills to a new level with each album. But knowing past works that led to them may help them make more sense… I guess it’s hard for me to say, as I’m kind of trapped on the ‘inside’ of it all.

Brian Eno described ambient music as music that could sustain a listener’s attention but that could also be ignored. Your music is not so easy to ignore, partly because it’s so emotionally intense and gripping. How do you see your relationship to ambient music, and what distinguishes you from other ambient artists?

I don’t really define myself as an ambient artist, actually. I just make electronic music. Yes, I have made plenty of music over the years which could easily be classified as ambient, and I don’t think I would really argue that, but to a large extent it is exactly because of the reason you mentioned that I wouldn’t really classify my music as ‘ambient.’ I think my music, especially the ‘ambient’ (in quotes because I’m talking about my beatless work, which most would probably call so simply because it has no beats) is, as you said, very intense – in fact, for many, it’s too much so, and can admittedly be emotionally taxing. It’s not really something you just put on and drift in and out of. It’s a commitment, and it asks a lot of you – but in my opinion, it gives a lot back in return. I’ve done live beatless performances before where people came up to me afterward and said that they hadn’t expected the experience to be so dominating and controlling in what they thought would be an ‘ambient’ set. It’s very in-your-face, intense, and it beats you down emotionally, I can’t lie. But that’s what my music is about. I’m an intense person, and by extension, so too are my emotions – and I’m not afraid to let them fly. If I had to pick something that would distinguish me from other artists, it would be that. I let it all out, and I’m not afraid to beat you down or overwhelm you in the process… and I’m amazingly fortunate to have people out there in the world who are willing to open themselves up to such an experience.

You also have a background in classical music. How has this influenced your approach to composition?

I would say my background in classical music is quite apparent in nearly everything I make – not only because it quite often takes on very ‘classical’ and dramatic undertones which obviously are a byproduct of that upbringing, but also in the way I compose technically. When I was younger, I not only played in orchestras and symphonies, but I also composed several pieces for trios and quartets on my own. Playing in a symphony teaches you how music is built from the ground up, and really shows you where pretty much every principle that applies to electronic music came from. Take that knowledge and then compose your own pieces for several different instruments which all have to interact simultaneously, and you really gain a new level of knowledge, but more importantly respect, for how music is made, and what really makes it amazing. The funny thing is, when I was young, even though I was so heavily involved in classical music, and loved playing it, I hated listening to it and found it boring. It wasn’t until much later in my life, even back when I started DJing, that I realized what a massive influence it had on me.

Recurring themes in your work include loneliness, isolation, and the passage of time. What emotions inspire this side of your music?

Basically the fact that I think way too much about everything, and always have. I’ve always been one of those people that, as trite as it sounds, feels most alone when I’m among other people. For me, there is no escape from loneliness in life – partly due to the fact that we are, technically all alone in it, from beginning to end, no matter how much we like to convince ourselves otherwise – but it’s a feeling I’ve embraced ever since I was literally old enough to know what it was. Life, to me, is all about loneliness, and I think it’s beautiful.

A massive majority, if not all, of my music deals heavily with the passage of time, and usually is very much anchored in the past and an account of time passing. I’ve always been obsessed with the passage of time, the fact that it can’t be reversed, and everything that comes along with that, from the small bouts of happiness we experience as a result, to the regrets we amass along the way. I very much live in the past… but technically, we all do. By the time you cognitively realize anything has happened, it’s technically already in the past. Yes, to some, that may seem like splitting hairs, or approaching the concept of living and time in far too technical of a way, but to me, I think it’s an important concept to both realize and embrace. We are all living in the past, every second of every day, living in memories of something that happened – whether ten seconds or ten years ago – and attempting to change the course of our history. It’s a strange, constant, and of course futile ritual – but also a thing of beauty. I’ve always been obsessed with the way my own memories, and my past, will intersect with those of others whose lives mine has touched… how they will remember me, how they will remember us, and how they will remember anything that I remember – as inevitably, our memories will be very different. But the parts that intersect, that’s where the real beauty lies. It’s a phenomenon I obsess about on a daily basis… thus its heavy influence in my music.

One of my favorite aspects of your work is that while your music often feels very melancholy, there are moments of exquisite and ecstatic beauty that rise up out of this sadness. Do you see these two sides of your music as being related to each other?

Well thanks for noticing – because yes, both sides are both intentional and integral. I’m a very melancholy and sad person in general, in that I think very predominantly about the final futility of things, really, and have always identified with things or forms of expression that other people find ‘too sad’ or depressing. But what I think so many people fail to realize, especially those who deride ‘sad’ music, films, or whatever else, is that there is an amazing beauty in that sadness. A person who makes such a work, and confronts such an issue, does so because they wish it could have been another way – a thing of absolute beauty in itself, and an optimism most people miss – but they know that the reality is, most of the time, there is no happy ending. But their willingness to face and embrace that sadness is, to me, a thing of exquisite and ecstatic beauty. That’s what life is – it’s a cruel, twisted, ultimately futile experiment we’re forced into by no choice of our own – but how we live it, and how we find our own meaning in it, is up to us. And part of life is sadness. We all have to experience it. It hurts. But it makes us feel, and reminds us we’re alive. I think embracing that fact is exhilarating and beautiful, and I see no reason why we should spend our lives trying to pretend it doesn’t exist.

I think the reason there is such beauty and even hope that comes up out of the sadness of my music is because like many people who face or embrace sadness, I do so because I hope for happiness, or better days… and so that hope, and that beauty, rises up, gradually through the sadness, in what I make just as it does in life. It’s just like I told one of my students once, who criticized me for being such a pessimist. She said I should be optimistic, and in that way I could know the beauty of life. I replied, “Do you know what every pessimist was before they were an optimist?”

“No, what?”

“Optimists. They were once the people who believed the most in the beauty of life, and people. But they had those hopes dashed over and over by the reality of the world, and the true nature of people… and it was only because they had once believed so much in the good, that their heart was able to be broken so badly, it could only see the bad.”

Let’s just say she had never thought about it that way, and I don’t think many people do. So I guess somewhere in me the optimist of old still lives on, still trying to find that beauty, and that good. In many ways, I still believe it’s out there.

Unlike a lot of ambient music, your work has always seemed very personal and human. Is this something intentional, and do you use your music to work through your own thoughts and feelings?

This is 100% intentional, and I guess could be another thing that distinguishes my music from a lot of other artists, though of course I’m not claiming to be the only person who makes personal and human music. Anything I make is exactly what you said – a way for me to work through my thoughts and feelings, to try to get something out of my head that will pretty much drive me insane if I don’t do so… and each and every one of these thoughts relate to a very specific time in my life, and so they couldn’t possibly be more personal, or human. Though in recent times my work has, I feel, taken on an even greater ‘human’ approach and deals with slightly more down-to-earth ideas, even in the past, when it dealt much more with utopian ideals or more abstract ideas, the foundation was always grounded in my personal experiences, and the impetus for each track comes from a very specific time or event in my life. In my opinion, it’s quite easy to sense this in what I make, and actually it could be a large part of the reason why some of what I make is so intense, or even overwhelming – because it’s true. It really happened.

A number of your song titles allude to the natural world. Is this something very important to you in creating your music, and do you feel the need to distance yourself from the modern world in order to get in touch with something more natural?

It definitely ties in with my obsession with isolation and loneliness – both things that instead of fearing, I actually pursue. Though I live in a city, surrounded by people and things, because the reality is my skill set, and the university I use it in that gives me what small paycheck I get requires both, I spend pretty much every minute of every day wishing I lived a life of intense quiet and isolation. Well in a way I accomplish the former, as not only do I feel isolated and alone no matter where I am (and, not surprisingly, more so the more people I am surrounded by), and purposely spend as much of my life as I can alone, but this is magnified exponentially in China, a place where you can never feel more alone being smashed in among more people than you’ll ever see in your life. As far as the quiet part, China isn’t a place you go for quiet… that reality is one I came to terms with long ago.

I am, like a million other people, a total paradox in this sense. I live in a city, and enjoy its convenience, technology, etc, but then talk every day about how all I want to do is live in the middle of nowhere in nature. Unfortunately, in the world we live in today, such a dream is a hard one to realize. But I am constantly reminded of something a woman I knew many moons ago in China told me, and that is that it’s better to spend your life wishing you had something than actually having it. At least that way, you always have something to live for. Those words have always stuck with me.

I love the way you incorporate voices into your music, and my favorite track of yours might be “I Knew Happiness Once,” which uses vocals very evocatively. Are these usually samples that you use, and if so, where did you find this one in particular?

Well first off, thank you. I am proud of the way I incorporate vocals into my music, and they mean a lot to me, and mean everything to the tracks they are in. In fact nowadays, it is virtually impossible for me to make music without them – which I guess plays into the whole ‘human’ aspect of what I make, which has only been getting stronger in recent times.

It’s interesting you liked the vocals in “I Knew Happiness Once,” because I think 98% of the rest of the world hated them. In fact, I can’t even count the number of times I’ve read or heard people say (or had them tell me directly) how much they hated those vocals, and how they completely ruined that track. Of course I beg to differ, and for me, that part of that track is the most intense part of that whole album. I’m not afraid to say I shed tears when making it. For me they are absolutely beautiful, and when I listen to it now, even years later, they hit me as hard or harder than they ever did. So, like everything I make, I stand by them. But to each his own.

I spend as much time hunting down and recording vocals as most people probably spend on their full-time job. It is a ridiculously and pretty much unhealthy obsession. I use everything from samples (and no, I do not rip off vocals from already-existing tracks nor have I ever sampled anyone’s work) both found and recorded myself, and in the last couple years I have also had the great fortune of working with quite a few live vocalists, including some of my students, which has been awesome. As far as where the vocals for that track came from, let’s just say I didn’t sing them myself (laughs).

Ambient music often seems to come from a place very distant from everyday life. How do you feel about the relationship between your work and your life? When you create music, are you stepping away from the everyday life or trying to go deeper inside it?

Every time I make something, I’m going deeper inside my everyday life. Even when the titles, or related theme deal with something far-off or distant, it’s still all an attempt to address things from my actual life. Besides, trying to get away from things in your life really just means you’re delving into your life itself, as you have to address what it is you’re trying to get away from. While at times, a track might begin to take a more distant or abstract direction, it’s still rooted in something very specific that happened in my life that would have caused my mind to take that direction.

Part of this likely comes from the fact that for me, music has never been about escape – it has always been about being a part of my real life, and helping me face life, not forget it. Music is a part of my life – the most important part, which my girlfriend really just loves – and is therefore woven into its fabric. They are inseparable parts of each other, so for me I don’t really understand how one can help me escape from the other – nor do I want it to. Music has always been there for me through it all, as the one friend that always understands. And the reason it understands, is because whatever we face, we face together… because it not only helps form the narrative of my life, it is my life. That’s why it means what it does to me. Because it’s there for me through thick and thin. To some, this line of thinking may seem a bit too overboard, but I know that many out there will know exactly what I mean. Over the course of the last 20-plus years, I’ve given up, sacrificed, and just plain lost everything under the sun for electronic music, from more money than I can count, to love, friends, house and home, and even my freedom – but I’ve never regretted a single one of them. Many people in my life over the years have said I was crazy, unrealistic, and just plain stupid to be willing to throw everything way for some music that not only would never make me any money, but one most people didn’t even know existed… and many of them, as a result, decided not to be a part of my life anymore. But they’ll never understand, and I don’t need to explain it to them, or anyone else. Without music, I wouldn’t want to live. So without music, my everyday life would cease to exist.

Is there a particular story you are trying to tell with your music as a whole? What are the emotions you want to produce in the listener?

I would say there is a kind of underlying story that carries through everything I make, though it is quite abstract and would be pretty hard to put into words – which is why I put it into music. Though it’s kind of hard to describe in a sentence or a paragraph, I think many people who really understand what I make can piece at least parts of it together, and have a sense of the story as a whole. That being said, every album, and every song, tells a different story. Keep in mind, every album I make is made from beginning to end in the order you hear the tracks, so it is very intentionally told, from start to finish. Of course the album itself is a story in itself, and each track its own as well, but they all connect very carefully, and deal very specifically with personal times, experiences, and ideas.

It’s really difficult to say what I would hope to produce in the listener. I would imagine the same is true for countless artists, but for me, when I make something, of course I hope the listener will feel exactly what I feel, and understand exactly what I meant to say… but the likelihood of that happening is obviously not high. Actually it happens more than I would expect, I must admit, as I often get emails from people explaining the thoughts or emotions a piece or album caused in them, and I am always shocked when it is really close or even pretty identical to my original intention. It’s always an amazing feeling when that happens… when you know you were really able to connect that deeply and precisely with another human being whom you’ve never met, talked to, or shared a single life experience with. It’s a feeling really beyond words, and one that will always mean more to me than anything in the world.

But really, you can’t expect people to get the same thing out of listening to something that you got out of making it. Everyone is going to interpret it in their own way, and it will mean something to them for their own reasons. I have no doubt that countless albums and songs that have meant the world to me over the years likely do so for very different reasons than they do for the person who made them, and I’m sure the same is true for many things I make – but for me, as long as it means something, and it can be part of someone’s life in even a small way, well then I’m happy. Thrilled, actually. And honored.

Already in 2012, your prolific work ethic continues unabated, and I count three albums from you so far this year. Am I missing any? Can you briefly describe these 2012 releases for newcomers?

It has indeed been three so far. I’m not gonna lie, my work ethic is pretty damn tireless. I work every day on music, sometimes between 8-12 hours a day. Of course there are times I have to step away from it, and I can only work on anything when my heart tells me to – I can’t just ‘sit down and make music’ – but though anyone needs a rest sometimes, for me it is rarely a problem. There is nothing I’d rather do, nothing more important to me, and every day my heart is full of new things to say.

The First Day (Home Normal) was the first, originally recorded at the end of 2010 directly after my father passed away, in fact I started it literally the night I returned to China. As would be the case with anyone, there was a lot going on with me at that time, and I wanted to make something that celebrated my dad’s life, rather than wallowing in sadness, which he never would have wanted. The album is a kind of dual tale, a kind of autobiography of my own life to that time, and also a celebration of and thanks to my dad who made all of it possible, even though he freely admitted he never understood what the hell I was doing most the time – but that never stopped him from supporting everything I did every step of the way.

Serenity (Darla) is in a large part a tribute to my old days as a chill-room deep trance DJ – a fact I was actually really happy to see a large amount of people picked up on. It’s the first and only album I’ve ever made that is purely positive – I just wanted to make something beautiful, that could make you feel good, and hopeful, like electronic music, and especially the trance of those days, used to. I’m talking about the trance of like ’92, when it was strictly for the back room, chill-room, or sunrise sets – back before drum-rolls or all the things that took it into the main room and made it stop being ‘trance.’ Of course not all of it was super feel-good, but much of it at that time, just like so much of the scene back then, was just so positive and beautiful, and really only cared about transporting you to a better place. It wasn’t about showing off this or that technical prowess, it wasn’t about showing your allegiance to some random clique, and it wasn’t about seeing your name in lights – it was just about making something beautiful, because you had beauty in your heart.

Don’t Look Back (also Darla, released as a bonus album to “Serenity”) is a pretty free-flow album, both a mix of beatless ambient and breakbeat, actually, which in some ways deals with topics and times related to “Serenity,” while also dealing with a lot of things I’ve gone through here in China. Actually each song on the album was recorded in a different village in China. At the time, I was doing a lot of travelling during a long winter holiday from school, and was traveling through a lot of far-off mountain villages to visit the family of friends. Each track was not only recorded in a different village, under completely different conditions (and yes, lugging my stuff around was not fun), but also contains field recordings, both obvious and subtle, taken from the exact villages where I was making the tracks, and woven in or integrated on the same day I was working on the tracks – so that album really has a very real-life aspect to it as well.

2012 will be a bit more chilled-out release-wise than last year, but my work ethic is as unabated as ever, and I have many things on the horizon. I think one thing it seems a lot of people seem to either forget or just plain not understand, however, from what I see people saying online, is that just because something comes out in 2011 doesn’t mean it was made in 2011. I see people saying I “make too much music too quickly,” but it’s pretty laughable if these people actually think I am making these albums as fast as they’re coming out. Many of them are made a long time ago, and sit for years while labels gather the resources to put them out, or for other personal reasons, the label needs a certain amount of time to do so. Labels are run by people, and people have real lives, they’re not just some magical machines who can instantaneously put out music whenever they feel like it. So for whatever reason, things take time. And at no fault of the labels, things just so happened in a way that 2011 saw a lot of albums come out pretty close together. I want to give my most massive and heartfelt thanks to so many people who supported each and every one of them, because I know that’s not easy, and to anyone who supports anything I make. It’s a massive honor, and I can only hope it can mean to them even a fraction of what it means to me.

What can fans expect from you in the future, and are there any upcoming projects we can expect from you that are particularly special?

Well I’m still working as hard as ever, driving my girlfriend farther and farther away in the process (laughs) and though this year will see a slightly more “sane” pacing of releases, I will have several things coming up this year I’m very excited about, including my first vinyl 12” in four years, on a new label With Or Without You, some remixes and compilation appearances I had the honor of being asked to be a part of, and also my full-length deep house album under my Earth House Hold name, on Love’s Label out of Chicago, a label and project that is truly run out of love.

Also, later this year will see my second album for Echospace come to light, again under my real name, again as a double-CD album, but with both CDs being my original work (along with another component, which will be a special surprise), as dual parts of what is a quite massive tale, and a project that not only took a massive amount of time and work, but which took more out of me emotionally than probably anything I’ve ever made. And that’s a good thing.

I’ve also just completed scoring the trailer for an upcoming indie film called The Mansion, and am working on several other projects, both under bvdub, as well as East of Oceans (my breaks project), as well as some other things outside the standard realm of music. With that, my daily task of torturing my poor students, and all the time it takes to sit around being dark and depressing, it’s going to be a busy year, but I’m grateful for every chance I get, and everyone who takes the time to listen. So my most sincere thanks to all who have ever supported me in any way, from so many amazing fans, to labels and true friends who have sacrificed so much of their own time, and their own dreams, to help me realize my own. I’ve never taken it for granted, and I never will. And lastly, thanks to anyone who had the patience to make it to the end of this interview – perhaps they are the hardest working of all (laughs).

1 Comment on this Post

  1. Kira Maxwell

    these interviews are getting better with each read and the music with each listen. It’s 1am here, I’m taking Bvdub out for a walk, the night is beautiful. one last look at the sea in my cassette player, I’m outta here.


Leave a Comment