hyperfocus
i wrote hyperfocus while falling out of centre frame. we danced a volatile dance stretched over a border. the pandemic was ending, but so were we. it left a fire in me burning.
the creative process began in my childhood bedroom one night, keys and mic in hand, pen and paper at my side. i had to pull it out of me— the grief, the anger, the shame. i didn’t want to censor it, i just wanted it out.
i started working on my debut ep a couple months after that initial purge, this time newly relocated to montréal. a new language on my tongue. a new apartment, all alone. i'd never written a body of work before start to finish. a sonic carving of worlds. hyperfocus marked the very beginning of the ep for me. track 01. that's all i knew.
in studio, i wanted the chorus to mimic the delirious heaviness that knotted my forehead to my chest to my stomach IRL. at homy, we recreated the sensation with the moog swelling in and out as my vocals cried and swam around. we played with the sound design of my lead vocal to sonically express my disorientation by first introducing my vocal line with a doubling effect that slowly dries out into a singular lead as i bend into my chorus lyric. gab and clem gave it serious depth. they gave it body. production felt like soul relief, blurring the lines and dimensions of sound and painting exact emotion. a true and unique catharsis i’d never experienced before quite like that.
hyperfocus will forever be a special healer of mine. it will forever bring me back to that place in time. back to my childhood room, april 21, 2021. dancing alone. purging the grief of it all. calling my mom in to listen.


















