Unlike an album, where it’s often about larger themes and cohesive sound pallets, mixtapes are all about variety. Or at least they were for me and my friends. So when putting this release together, I was more concerned with making sure none of the songs sounded too similar. It turned out to be a really fun change of pace. After so many years of  stressing over cohesiveness, it was refreshing thinking of ways to destroy it. 

More than just that, I have always worked with lots of different styles. Hence all my side projects over the years. I just stopped releasing my less acoustic work because I didn’t know where to put it. I no longer think that type of organization matters very much.

One positive change brought about by streaming, in my eyes, is that people are more willing to explore their musical tastes. Since it all costs the same, and you aren't purchasing an album before you know how you feel about it, there's little harm in trying something new. I personally don’t hear a lot of “I only listen to [insert genre]” kind of talk anymore, and I think the removal of risk is a part of that. As someone who never cared for all the genre arguments in the first place, I consider this a nice update.

So I’m using this Mixtape series as a container for all the misfits that show up as a result of explorations in the studio. Mixtape #2 is currently underway.

I just wanted to document some of the sounds to listen back to later. But it was developing a fun sense of movement as I layered a bunch of different arpeggiators on top of each other. So I built some drum loops, made a rough song structure, and then I forgot about it for about three years. 

I found the recording again earlier this year (2024). I liked the way it sounded, so I added some guitars and lyrics to it. I was feeling sentimental that day, so I thought I would try my hand at a love song. I almost never write those, at least not directly, but on that particular afternoon it felt right. I had also just finished reading the “Three Body Problem” series by Liu Cixin the week before, which, if you’ve ever read them, really makes you think about life with this enormous sense of scale. It definitely affected the lyrics I came up with.

So this track was just a result of a chaos, happenstance and trusting my instincts. Which feels right in line with the theme of love.

It originally started as a Radical Face song. But we needed something to finish out that album, and it wasn’t quite fitting in with The Roots, which I was also working on at the time. So I got together with Alex (the other member of Electric President), we recorded it quickly, and the record was done soon after. 

But if I’m being perfectly honest, I was never entirely happy with that recording. Something never felt right about the mix, and it’s not the best key for my voice. I used to say I like the song more than the recording. But like any piece of art, you eventually just have to accept its flaws and move on. Attempting to make something perfect is a great way to never finish it.

So how did this new version come about?

I bought a new mic earlier in the year (2024). My way of testing a microphone is to record an entire song with it, using it on every source, as it’s the fastest way to see how it behaves and whether I want to keep it. But I typically do this with a song I’ve already written or a cover. That way there aren’t many artistic decisions to make and I can focus on the engineering and mixing. I just happened to choose “Safe and Sound” for my test, and I was happy with how it came out.

I understand that people might still prefer the original, and that’s totally fine. But for me, this one is far closer to how I heard the song in my head, once upon a time. 

The Cars, Gary Numan, Modern English, Echo and the Bunnymen, The B-52s … it’s a long list. It’s often my favorite driving music. That era struck such a great balance between fun and moody. Melodrama with a beat. While this isn’t a style I play with regularly (or that I’m very confident in) it happens from time to time. So I decided to put this one out. I have a few more floating around that I may eventually put out, too.

Lyrically, this one is pretty straightforward. It’s about sitting with someone through a bad patch of life, and accepting that it's okay to need that very same help sometimes, too.

I grew up in Jacksonville Beach, Florida –  a crusty little beach town just south of the Georgia line. I grew up around surfing, and while I mostly skated, I developed a real fondness for the ocean that I still carry with me.

But this particular song is a giant nod to my favorite surf film, Endless Summer. We had the VHS when I was a kid, and I watched it a lot. I just liked the feel of it, and still do. Seeing it years later, I realized how much the mood of that film stems from its soundtrack. So I wanted to write an homage to that movie and its score by The Sandals.

Additional note: the vocal samples in this came from a really funny Uber ride when I lived in LA. The driver didn’t speak a lot of English, and I don’t speak a lot of Spanish, but somehow the miscommunications just made us both laugh a lot. I asked him if I could record our ride, and just put the phone up on the dash. He really liked the word “beautiful.” I thought that was a nice word to pick.

I was missing someone I haven’t seen in a long time, and may never see again. For reason unknown to me, those feelings lead me to sad songs with major chords. Always has. If I had to guess, it’s because it’s a confusing set of emotions. The kind where warmth and loss are so entangled that they’ve made something new, where you smile and mourn at the same time. Happysad. Lostfound.

I wrote and recorded the entire song in one day. Mixed it the next. Haven’t touched it since. Not sure I’ll play this one out very much, whenever I do some shows again. But we’ll see. Sometimes it scratches a strange sort of itch.

Albums like “Entroducing” from DJ Shadow were a huge influence on me, especially when it comes to percussion. I’ve always loved the chopped drums from that era, and the sound quality they had. Heavy and crinkly and mixed really loud.

All the speaking in this track came from interviews found on freesound.org, but they’re heavily edited. I cut all the words out and moved them around to make new sentences. There’s something really funny about that to me, stitching together a bunch of nonsense. This track also continues my ongoing obsession with wind chimes.

I kept noticing that everyone was saying “amazing” a lot, but it didn’t seem like anyone was listening very much. The people were all nice enough on a surface level, but it didn’t suit me. It still amazes me that standing around and doing very little can be so tiring when it’s the wrong fit. I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was melting.

So I wrote this song in response. I detuned my guitars until the strings were just flopping around and almost unplayable, and sang the words with food in my mouth, then pitch shifted everything afterwards. I’ve always liked creating things solely to make myself laugh. This is just one of those.

I reached out to Griffin Kisner, who plays drums for me on tour and on the “A Light In The Woods” series, and on tour. I asked if he could record a single drum take that repeats as little as possible. This was in the middle of the pandemic, so we were just working remotely and sharing via email. I was blown away with the performance he sent back to me. It’s the star of the track, for sure.

A friend of mine was working on a pilot for a show, and while I won’t share any of his ideas here (they’re very cool), it takes place in the early 90s indie rock scene and the main character is a singer in a band. My friend asked if I wanted to write something that she, and the band, might play. That period of music is a huge reason why I’m a musician, so I was very down to give it a try.

I wrote and recorded the song over two days, writing the lyrics from the point of view of the main character. I had a blast doing it, but it was yet another song that would typically just sit on a hard drive. I’m glad I can use this mixtape concept as a home for all these little misfits now. 

The apartment was noisy. The only place quiet enough to record was in the bathroom. Normally I’d turn the mics off while he was tuning, but since we had to do takes between the buses going by, I left them on the entire time. 

I liked the way all the string noises sounded while he was getting ready, so I cut them out and started performing them with a midi keyboard. That led to sampling some trash cans and random noises for drums, and the rest just kind of spiraled from there.

The title came from my misunderstanding of what a word meant, and trying to look up its etymology. I saw the phrase “Latin For Joy” in a search and liked the ring of it.