The small selection of music I can focus to

It bums me out a bit that, as I’ve gotten older, I can’t listen to music when trying to focus. It’s too distracting. I can only really listen to specific stuff (steve reich, brian eno’s ambient albums, a few trent/atticus soundtracks, my own music) and not get distracted by the music.


This makes it hard to keep up with all these new discoveries I’m finding on all the platforms 🫠

Announcing Kid Lightbulbs LP3: RUINED CASTLE

The next Kid Lightbulbs album will be called RUINED CASTLE. It will be out in December.

Below is the artwork, this time taken by me.

I need to get this album out of my head and into the world. It is an album of suffering, and while much of it was written years ago and about a different suffering, it feels oddly prescient and timely. I’ll share more between now and its release.

The first single was “hope inside my baby’s heart.” The second will be “don’t wait”, another offbeat industrial banger for the time many of us are in, out November 22.

“hope inside my baby’s heart”

I released a new single today. It’s available everywhere, or you can listen here:

This is the first single from my upcoming third album. I’ll be sharing more about the album over the coming weeks, but it’s worth mentioning now that a theme of this album is suffering. Something it feels like a lot of folks are doing these days.

“hope inside my baby’s heart” is important to me because it represents a crucial moment in my marriage: my wife’s autoimmune diagnosis in early 2018, and the suffering that both led to it and happened as a result. I found myself revisiting this song (and much material I wrote around the same time) recently, given the amount of suffering and worry happening both around the world and right inside my home. One needs optimism when they’re suffering, and this song is about me trying to provide that.

Compositionally, it’s dead simple: an ostinato of major thirds played on the piano, almost heartbeat-like in rhythm. It follows that rhythm across a verse, a harmonic development, a collapse, and then a cathartic swell. Everything supports that structure, and there’s not much more to the production than that. Even the rhythmic shift during the final section is just the same beat time-shifted ahead by 1 quarter note.

The lyrics are sparse - just one verse - which signifies to me the fear of bad news leading to despair, and wanting as a partner to inspire hope in light of that despair.

• The opening lines (“sun high in the sky…”) come from a DM conversation I was having with an old estranged friend about 9 years ago, when brainstorming ideas for cover art for the album that ultimately became my previous album STEP INTO THE OCEAN. We had an idea about the front cover with the sun high over a landscape, with the back cover showing a sunset over an empty chair. The words of the chat felt poetic for some reason and stuck with me. Years later, they bubbled back up and seemed to represent the knife point on which things can go from bright to dim, like flipping an album over.
  
• The “read all the books” and “rocking chair on wheels” bits come from the desk chair on which my wife would sit in our apartment at the time of her diagnosis, reclining and spinning slowly and anxiously reading about how to cope with said changes.

That same whole verse is shared with the interlude track on my first album (“??????”). I wrote “hope” first (back in 2018), and the lyrics worked as a sort of flashback / fever dream sequence in the loose plot of THROW MYSELF INTO THE BAY: after the protagonist spirals in “spiral song”, they’re suddenly pulled back to reality with a reminder that their partner is also suffering, but they’re not present for it (hence the fever dream), and when pressed, they lash out (“!!!!!!”) in the next song.

I’ve fallen into this trap (hell, I made a whole album about it already) and I know I can still do better as a partner and person. Releasing the original “hope inside my baby’s heart” is a weird way of me committing to be more present and supportive than I had been, I guess.

More on LP3 to come soon.

I need music as an outlet

I need music as an outlet. It’s not a “hustle”, it’s barely for the money. It’s a passion I’ve cultivated for decades. Something that’s purely creative and cathartic. Without the outside influence of anyone. I can still ask for feedback, but I own every single creative decision made in my music.

Yeah, I guess it’s a bit of an ego thing, but I assume this is also why founders found companies.

The next Kid Lightbulbs single will be "hope inside my baby's heart"

The next Kid Lightbulbs single will be “hope inside my baby’s heart”.

This is the first of 3 singles I’ll be putting out before year’s end to build anticipation for LP3. Sonically it serves as a transition out of the piano music I was recently making and a small teaser for the LP3 sound: sparse, dry yet lush at times, somber, piano.

Here’s the artwork (made by my wonderful wife @aliciagreen.co). It comes out 11/1 everywhere.

I figured out a way to “host” my shorter social posts

I figured out a way to “host” my shorter social posts (ie what I post on Threads or Bluesky) on my personal website. It’s kinda nerdy but cool:

• Post anywhere I want via Buffer
  
  
• A Zapier automation listens for sent Buffer posts and creates a text file in the Dropbox folder where my website lives (bgreen.lol)
  
  
• The text file contains the contents of the post, with a tag “random thoughts”
  
  
• 15 minutes later it shows up on my website, with the date I posted it

On “alternative” acts

Hot take. “alternative” acts have the hardest nut to crack re success, but we also have the best and most dedicated fans once we get them

Related: very little “advice” on the social platforms works for alternative acts, nor should it

Solo piano, parts 1 + 2

I put out two collections of piano music. They’re on Bandcamp right now.

A few months ago on a Friday night, I went down to my basement and impulsively recorded 10 or so pieces of piano music. Some were me riffing on Kid Lightbulbs songs, a couple were totally improvised, a few were revisitations of old ideas I’d laid dormant for over a decade.

I was so happy with how they came out that I played them for my wife and daughter a few days later, and it served as perfect “winding down” music for before my daughter’s bedtime. Might as well post them for others to enjoy and wind down to as well.

I’ve released the set in two separate volumes, six pieces each. Both are meant as Bandcamp exclusives. The second volume is for this coming Bandcamp Friday (10/4), but I’m posting it a few days early. I’m too happy about it not to share.

Each volume is available on Bandcamp for listening or purchase:

• Volume 1
  
• Volume 2

I will also be releasing an abridged set of pieces to the streaming services, called SOLO PIANO SAMPLER (pun intended for music tech nerds), on October 11.

You may notice some subtle references to other Kid Lightbulbs songs in the titles of a few of them. Several are reinterpretations / deconstructions of songs – in particular, “trendsetters”, “curiosity”, “hopefully”, “lashing out!!!!!!”, “the worst days of our lives” and “sleepwalking again” are represented in some form in these pieces. There are also a few pieces that tease material for my upcoming third album (though that will remain a secret for now).

I hope you enjoy 😄

How I broke $1000 in Bandcamp sales over 9 months

Yesterday, a music friend & fan of mine bought a double-single of mine for $2, which put me over $1000 in lifetime Bandcamp sales.

This is a very cool milestone, not just because of how music seems to be quite devalued in 2024, but also because I did this over the span of 9 months (except for $40 made in 2019 from a few sales from an old project I’ve since abandoned).

After reflecting on it a bit, I realized I did have a bit of (unintentional) strategy (which I backed into) for how I did it:

• put out lots of music regularly (I have a big backlog of it)
  
• have some kind of merch (even just a few t-shirts helped)
  
• use fundraisers to drive awareness for both the music & cause (I didn’t keep a significant % of the $)
  
• exploit Bandcamp Fridays, not just with singles but advance releases of EPs/albums when possible
  
• promote organically & equally alongside other things - the above points make this easier

If I’m honest, I think the most effective parts were the causes & lining up releases to work with Bandcamp Fridays.

Alongside me building up Kid Lightbulbs, I’ve learned more about the value of divesting & supporting directly folks in need. While I’ve raised money for orgs like The Trevor Project, we’ve raised more money sent directly to marginalized folks here on Threads. Shoutout to ilyBBY for instilling the idea & everyone whose funds helped here.

As for lining up releases around Bandcamp Friday - I actually think this is the biggest thing that made an impact, and I’m glad Bandcamp Fridays are still happening. (There’s one in 3 weeks!)

When I released my 2nd album:

• I opened preorders on Bandcamp for 5/3 (BC Friday)
  
• Released on 5/17 as BC exclusive
  
• Released to streaming services ~4 weeks later

I’d probably shorten the timeframe next time, but this, plus a cause to raise funds for at the time, worked so well. Most of the $675 below is from this.

It’s worth noting that I don’t have any physical releases of my music. All the above (except for the few t-shirt sales I’ve made via Bandcamp) is digital. But a CD editions (and possibly vinyl) of my albums is something I’ve had on my backlog for a bit. I need time (and money) to sort it out, but I am keen to do this.

(As an aside: it would be super cool if Bandcamp had project-specific crowdfunding built in – with this, I could raise funds for a vinyl release of an existing digital release I already have on Bandcamp. Otherwise I’m probably going to end up on Kickstarter or something if I want to take a vinyl release seriously.)

Also worth noting that Bandcamp subscription earnings do not count toward your sales. I’ve also (miraculously!) gotten 5 people to subscribe to my Bandcamp, which gives them access to all my releases and a discount on merch, possibly other things.

Going pro?

I’m considering a subscription to Bandcamp Pro, which is the monthly paid version of Bandcamp for Artists that they seem to completely forget about in their marketing.

I’ve been trying to find a way to build true independence as an online musician, using tools aligned with my values & principles to never feel tied to any one platform. Direct support from fans is great for this, and having a website and email list I control (using services that don’t relentlessly try to take my $ without adding value) are the core, but I still need a way to distribute content to folks willing to support me directly.

I’ve used Dropbox & email to do this in a lo-fi way, and three people even bought my first album through this method, but it definitely doesn’t scale. Also Dropbox doesn’t really have a nice, branded listening interface - just a file viewer in a web browser. There’s decent video hosting options (Vimeo, YouTube though I don’t love being reliant on YouTube either) - but there’s nothing for audio that feels nice and something I can control. Soundcloud is increasingly gross about their paid offerings and seeming tolerance for bots and other garbage, and Bandcamp works but defaults to public releases and their subscription offering.

Except if you subscribe to Bandcamp Pro! Bandcamp Pro offers private listening and selective streaming. This means I can upload bonus material, keep it private, and serve it to my fans on my email list who are patronizing me directly. There are other useful features like better stats & targeting, but those feel secondary.

It’s $10/month, but I get $5/month for the first year as an early Bandcamp adopter. This is great for experimentation - I can take a year at half-price to see if this is worth keeping around.

Ironically, the problem this helps to solve is Bandcamp’s own platform fees. I lose 15% (+ processing fees) on every sale, including subscription payments. But if I sell my music on my own (ie. have fans pay on my website via Stripe), and just distribute the music via private Bandcamp access, I pay $5-10/month across all sales, and only pay processing fees per sales. This is cheaper in the long run, and arguably would have been cheaper if I ran all my releases (and perhaps even a patron subscription) in 2024 this way. It’s distribution as a scalable service — but the customer is mine, not Bandcamp’s.

I’m not sure if this is worth it, but I may set it up as an experiment, once I figure out my longer-term plan for direct-support releases. Watch this space, I guess?

STEP INTO THE OCEAN, reviewed by Erik Dionne of Dog Army

Erik was kind enough to write a long-form review of my second album. He doesn’t have a blog of his own, so I’m publishing it here for y’all’s reading enjoyment (and my own flattery).

The album is an artform unto itself and stands alongside other longform art–the novel, the film, the 10-episode season, or the 10-season series–as powerful and weighty, though, requiring some dedication from both artist and audience. In a world where it is easy to perceive the length of a second as changing–becoming more valuable, demanding each second must be rich with content and emotional stimulation–the album is an undertaking that music artists may find to be fruitless, unsustainable, or even a kind of monkey’s paw (you have to let go of it if you want to persist). Despite this, Kid Lightbulbs damns the sentiment that instant-gratification is the only remaining realm for listeners. In his album, STEP INTO THE OCEAN, he takes the listener on a hyper-dynamic sprawl through indie, rock, industrial, and genre-shedding emotional soundscapes.

The album begins with a minimalist whisper, “this isn’t what I wanted”–musical or confessional, there’s no way to know yet, but the stillness and restraint chills the listener with solemnity, and we have stopped what we are doing–and we are now listening. What follows is a slow crescendo, a slow-motion spilling of information and confession, paralleling the music that begins to pound and swell to craft a track that avalanches far from where it began.

I focus on this track because the dynamics of the opening track are never lost throughout the entire album. But the album does not follow the formula of a crescendo. It always keeps us guessing, and we’re most often guessing wrongly. Where you think a song is ending, an electronic yet warm beat or blazing guitar riff fills the fade, and pulls us along like a sonic undertow into the next section of the track or a new song entirely, without ever breaking a sonic feed. This is “streaming” in the old sense of a constant flow of–yes, I am aware–water. It never stops moving–whether dripping, trickling, pouring, or the churning blast from a wave–we are submerged into the next second of the album with no thought of returning to shore, and that is one of the most powerful achievements of this album: we are constantly moving into the next second and segment, until the coda, without realizing exactly how we got there, but realizing we have moved, and moved a great distance; over what spans, it is difficult to recall. So we listen again.

The album, technically, is quite impeccably produced. The electronic drums are noticeably electronic, but so appropriately electronic, and never losing their energized and emotional impact. They drive forward with lovely, organic swells, ticks, or booms. There is never a disparity between elements–guitars, keys, synths, samples, and who-knows-what-elses all flow and dance together seamlessly to form moments of divine lightness, as in the breakdown with beautiful female vocals in “trendsetters,” or the following brutal pounding distortion and cathartis of “digression (this is so familiar).” While hypnotized, shocked, or deep in some kind of unassignable flow, we’re never discomfited–we are constantly immersed, exactly as Kid Lightbulbs directs us to be.

It’s this dynamic polarity that amazes the listener, but it’s the absolute cohesion–from beginning to end–that mystifies the reflective listener and defines the experience. Each track could be played on its own and enjoyed, but to be honest, I have yet to actually listen to fewer than three simultaneous tracks at a time–the stream is so seamless that I could not even know when to pause between tracks–and I don’t want to.

The length of a second may be more valuable than ever. But it takes a wholly modern album like STEP INTO THE OCEAN by Kid Lightbulbs to remind us that a second in time truly is more valuable than ever, but that our short-form content is offering fleeting bursts of emotional responses which are vapid and cheap, and are so often lost to oblivion moments after experiencing them. Through this album, Kid Lightbulbs reminds us: that every moment can be rich with feeling and meaning, and when delivered through an album’s length of heartfelt dedication and passion, those cumulative moments create an unforgettable experience and a profound work of art to say aloud, “the album will not die.”