The Summer of 2015

To describe the conception of this demo... I suppose I'd have to tell you about last summer when I met Dylan

At the Pot Hole, I made a friend named Dylan. I can't ever remember his last name, but he is this crazy-energetic, funny-ass dude from Mooresville who came to repair the Pot Hole's heating unit. The minute he walked in the home, he spotted my roommate's Gibson, then he took a turn to the right and spotted my herd of guitars. He also spotted the bong on the table and myself sitting across from it. Needless to say, I quickly found out Dylan loves to play the guitar. I let him jam on my Warlock and the level of skill this guy was showing was face-melting. I couldn't believe how random and exciting this moment was. I let him keep playing. His boss was so cool with it, he paid him the two hours he was there while he and his coworker actually did stuff. And he wasn't even supposed to work today. He just figured he could use the extra money. We got together later that night . I found out he lived not ten minutes away, and at the same time I found out I didn't live too far from my childhood town of Beech Grove

We had this great chemistry going on. I had never really jammed with anyone before, and the first time doing so, I found out Dylan loved to play really fast, thrashy music. I could lay down high energy rhythms and his fingers would fly over the fretboard, sweeping and jumping octaves and just crazy shit I couldn't believe a seventeen year old can do effortlessly. I swear, kids today are changing the guitar game. I showed Dylan some of the songs I've written, and he told me that he'd have to introduce me to his friend named Taylor. That day came a lot sooner than I expected. Come to think of it, Dylan was rather impulsive, but aren't we all as seventeen year olds?

Dylan comes over one day and basically brought a band with him. My living room became a mini-concert. He brought over his friends from Mooresville: the tye-dye clad leprechaun on drums was Taylor, and the tall dude with the cool brown hair on guitar was Brett. The amount of skill was mind blowing. Brett and Dylan had such great chemistry, they were performing sweeps in harmony. I couldn't amend to the greatness I was hearing. I had to put my guitar down and simply watch and be humbled as these kids all younger than me exploded with energy. I made sure to exchange numbers with these guys.

So time passes, and I find myself in my hometown of Long Beach, California. My parents were chosen to be my cousin's godparents for her Quincenera, and my father's brother and his wife renewed their vows. Yet despite these milestone events of coming of age and eternal love, the whole while we were in California, my grandfather was in the hospital, recovering from a surgery that drained his head of infection. The way my father put it to convince me to leave the job I just got hired at was that my grandfather was at his final moments. I had never had anyone close to me die before, and it made sense for me to be there with my family to show I care. That, and it would be a life experience I needed to grow. So every day was hospital visits. Each as depressing as the last. So many tears, so many family members showing a sensitive side of themselves I had never seen before. I had already come off what I would have to say is my first episode of depression. Now I had this on my plate...I had esteemed turning twenty as a very cathartic age. I cared more about it than I did when I turned twenty-one. But boy, life really kicked me in the urethra.

But I had my music to keep me from falling into the dark recesses of depression. In the very few moments I was allowed privacy, I played on my aunt's electric piano in her living room. I also brought with me my Mexican-Flag guitar. I started playing new things. Experimenting and observing exactly where my fingers go on the fretboard. I realized a transition in skill for myself. I couldn't play as fast as Brett and Dylan, but I could express articulate chords and their progression. I recorded these new riffs and ideas and showed them to Taylor. I told him how I actually a hefty bank of material that I feel could be ready to become something bigger. A lot of the songs I've written lacked lyrics, but I had 5 that were definitely ready.

Ready to become a demo of some sort.

I mentioned this to Taylor, and he points me in the direction of his friend Joe, a practicing audio engineer and bassist who resides in Bloomington. I contacted Joe, sent him some raw recordings of my songs, and asked him if he would be interested in recording a dirty demo. He said yes.

This event helped me realize that with my car, my world is not as small as I made it out to be. So every Friday after July 4th, I ventured yonder to Mooresville to pick up Taylor, then we ventured yonder to Bloomington to meet with Joe, and the three of us recorded my songs. Taylor helped with the percussion, and Joe helped with bass parts, mixing, and recording.

Come August, all our work payed off in what is called the "World Full of Sin" demos. I called it that because the songs featured on this demo are ones I wish to put on a future album with the same name. During the recording of these demos, I asked Taylor if he would form a band with me. Taylor on drums, and myself on guitar and vocals. Taylor recruited an old high school friend named Brandon Davis to take over for bass duties.
We formed a group called "MadWorld" a name I wanted to use as an outlet for all my creative works. We weren't supposed to be a set genre. We would play whatever we wanted. Whatever the soul would pour forth. The formation of this band was a milestone for me.

Obviously things are different now, and I'm now learning what it's like to be in a band. What it's like to collaborate and compromise and butt heads and establish common ground; What it's like to venture for hours to play for a crowd of six people; what it's like to meet all sorts of kind people who are chasing to same dream as I; and what it's like to struggle for the things you love. This demo is the start of a journey I hope lasts for miles upon miles. Music is the only thing I'm good at, and I'll be damned if I give it up. I wanna see how far it'll take me.

I don't have forever, and that doesn't bother me at all. I want my works to surpass my lifespan. I'm not stopping until my heart does. All I want is to leave my mark on this world.