It Started Back In 95
Here we are, getting ready to talk about my life in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why uncomfortable? Because I have made it a mission in life to keep my world off the Internet. Why? Because way back in 1995, when Microsoft gave the world one of its first internet browsers, I knew we were in trouble. Credible publishers would no longer vet information. Any fool could jump online and create the illusion of excellence, and people would be misguided en masse. Was I wrong? Nope. In fact, I underestimated the extent of the damage to follow.
At first, my personal boycott of the Internet was simple. Most people did not use the Internet in 1995; humans could still make authentic connections with others. Life was normal. Then, over time, business cards, brochures, and posters were gradually replaced by websites. Artists no longer left their homes to market their music; they did everything online. This web-based reality ushered in the age of artificiality. Large tech companies began designing tools that enabled people to fake reality online. Long before anyone feared AI, the world had transformed into a demented masquerade, where almost everyone online created a popular version of themselves to influence the public.
In contrast, while this farm of fakeness flourished. I remained firmly planted in the real world. To this day, I only have two Facebook friends.
Believe it or not, it is possible to have a music career off the Internet. All of the real-world marketing tactics that worked in 1994 still work today. Trust me when I say, when you know the people who can put you on stage in the real world, you will get put on stage in the real world. The Internet is not, nor has it ever been, an easy street for artists. It gives the illusion that your art is advancing, but sooner or later, if you’re serious about your craft, you’ll need to turn off your computer, step into a time machine, and connect with the cool people. We’re still back in 1994.
When The Net Sucked Me In
During the summer of 2023, I realized, with pure horror, that my boycott was killing my career. Although I could see how much damage people had suffered at the hands of the Internet, it had become clear that the Internet was God for most people. Humans lost the ability to distinguish fact from fiction. Idiots ruled the world, and I do not write this figuratively. Foolish minds now steer popular opinion, shaping every corner of society. The Internet made foolishness cool. Imagine that.
When I decided to put my work online, I had to do so in a way that kept me safe from the cruelties and stupidity that thrives in online spaces. My need to stay safe is what introduced me to the world of AI. I could create an avatar and use it as a crash-test dummy. My problem was that I did not want to be as fake as the millions of human influencers out there. I needed to create something as authentic as possible. And that is what I did. I took a photo of myself as a boy, during a time when I was enduring the worst abuse imaginable, and transformed that image into my online avatar. That is the boy you see on this website and in my videos.
There is this notion many people have that everything AI takes no creativity. The world believes that all "AI Artists" do is write prompts and magic happens. This reductive view of AI is categorically false for me. I do not let AI simply create an alternative reality for me. I use AI to animate my childhood, using real photos of the places I have lived, the pets I have own, and the horrors I have felt. For me, AI is a time machine that allows me to examine my childhood and how that childhood shapes my art.
Here is where I am different from many so-called "AI Artists". I am not trying to create a fake person online, no more than Gorillaz tried to make counterfeit people when they animated their band. I am not creating a Xania Monet, a fake person who tries to resemble a real human artist. You will never see one of my AI creations lip-singing a song, because I am not trying to present myself. Remember, I refuse to be online. Instead, I am showing the world what haunts me, my childhood. I use AI to create animations that give the world an accurate understanding of my emotional landscapes. And whether you want to believe it or not, my AI creations do have a significant emotional impact. I know this because I receive thousands of emails from people whose lives I have impacted. Are the AI animations what moved them? No. It's me. They can feel my human intentions.
AI In My Audio Recordings
Now that we have talked about the images I use to promote my music, let's move on to the music itself. Is it AI-produced?
I started producing music in the 1990s, long before there was any such thing as AI, auto-tune, or any of the countless other performance enhancement tools. I am a well-seasoned song producer. I love the creative aspects of music-making, while I loathe the technical side of engineering, which, for me, is more about the science of sound reproduction. It may take five hours to write a song, but it could take the better part of a month to transform the raw song into a finished hit. There is nothing romantic about being stuck behind a DAW for 14 days trying to get the right mix. For me, it's torture. I use AI tools to minimize this stress as much as possible. If an AI tool can do a good job in seconds, why on earth would I subject myself to days of avoidable work? If an AI tool can't get the sound I want, which is often the case, I will suck it up and suffer in the studio for days, weeks, sometimes months. I do what it takes to create music.
Although I create my own demos and play every instrument on those demos, when it comes to recording the final sounds, I hire session artists to work with me. I am good, but I am not the best, and my fans and my music should have the best. With my most recent album, the only album I currently have online (Broken Hearts & Paper Planes), I used 20 demo tracks I produced between 2005 and 2025. I wrote every word and created every melody and vocal harmony. I developed each song on this album into an industry-standard demo. Lastly, I used AI production tools to polish the songs and make them ready for release.
My Life On Social Media
At the time of this writing, I have been part of the social media art scene for only 30 days. In that time, I have posted 20 AI-generated videos featuring some of the most emotional creations I have ever produced. These videos have received over 730,000 views so far. The support of my new fans has been excellent. And, YES, they are buying my music too, which is a blessing. The downside is that all of the reactivity, stupidity and horror I have avoided for decades has now started to impact my life. I am astounded and ashamed to discover how small-minded and hostile the arts community has been towards any artist who uses AI. I have seen bigotry at its best over the past few weeks, and it has left me weak.
I have made the professional decision to isolate my work as much as possible. Meaning, I will not be occupying spaces that most artists use to promote their music. AI deeply threatens traditional artists, and I must respect that. Artists who use AI have an unfair advantage, and we need to let them feel safe.
You will not find me on Spotify, iTunes, or any of the other music services. These streaming platforms abuse artists as is; the last thing we need is to inflame an already bad situation with AI work. Not that anyone cares. Uninspired "AI Slop" has already flooded the streaming platforms.
My music is available only on this website and my three social media pages. I am creating my own world—a safe space online where I can do my own thing, unbothered by the haters.
I will not be talking about this again because I will not let the Internet shape my future behaviour. No one is entitled to my truth. You cannot demand transparency because you are curious. Your curiosity does not override my right to privacy and peace.
Remember, I still live back in 1994. And I am happy here.
Before I Go
Final thoughts, if you could truly understand the depths of torment I suffered as a child, you would know why I have an unquenchable need to stay safe from abusive people. And nowhere on earth are people more abusive than on the Internet. I cannot endure them. I do not have thick skin, nor do I want it.
As more people become familiar with images of my childhood self, something odd has occurred. Healing is happening. How? Thousands of people have shown my AI self more care today than I ever received as a boy. In some dysfunctional way, I can send that love through time and place it where it is needed, in my childhood. I was a good kid. I really was. No one cared then. It gives me some relief to know they care now.
