Exploring Aaron Pinto’s Debut Album: A DIY Journey Rooted in Beatlesque and Sloan-inspired Charm

Aaron Pinto introduces his debut collection of 30 impactful songs, exuding a charming DIY essence while drawing inspiration from The Beatles and Sloan’s signature sound.

In a recent interview with Sweet Sweet Music blog, he delves deeply into the extensive backstory behind this remarkable album.


You can discover ‘Yo Girls’ featured on the Best Power Pop of 2024 Spotify Playlist.


1. Could you share the journey of bringing this record to life? How did all the pieces come together to create the final product?

You have to go all the way back to 2012 to get to the origins of this album. I was a senior in college at Loyola in Baltimore, Maryland and I had been in a band called The Palace at 4am for a few years. By that point, I had really started to hit my stride as a songwriter—in other words, the songs kept coming and I finally felt like it wasn’t just beginner’s luck anymore.

But this influx of ideas was becoming an issue as I could no longer keep track of them all in my head. I must’ve mentioned this to my good friend (and ridiculously talented songwriter and singer) Maria Dontas, and she promptly gifted me a Logitech USB microphone designed for Skype that she wasn’t using. I didn’t care at all that it wasn’t made for recording music, especially if all I was trying to do was capture sketches. I had a PC laptop then and the recording software Audacity was free, so I downloaded that and pretty much tried to record whenever I went home to New Jersey. Pretty quickly it became clear that I was putting all of my effort into these recordings and was capturing some interesting tones and most importantly, takes that had the authentic energy that comes with recording a freshly-written song. And even though these recordings were unquestionably unprofessional sonically, I knew deep down that I’d never be able to recreate them.

A couple of these recordings got used for The Palace at 4am, either as reference for live renditions or for Bandcamp-only releases. But that band ended up not being something that every member wanted to pursue seriously and thus I moved on: I graduated, moved back to New Jersey, and continued to write and record songs with this same amateur setup for the most part—I tried an Android 4-track recording app for a little bit and actually loved the results (three songs on the album were recorded that way: “1st”, “Wishing It Was Us”, and “Over U”). From late 2013 to Summer 2014, I was uploading my recordings to SoundCloud as I finished them. No mastering—I didn’t even know what that was at that time. Funny enough, all of the SoundCloud songs were credited to me as a solo artist and many of them ended up on this album. So I guess I had the right idea all along. But at the time, I was very romantic about being in a band. Most of my all-time favorite songwriters were part of bands. So that’s what I wanted for these recordings, even though I was the one playing everything on them. The SoundCloud was just so I could easily share them with my friends.

I eventually got my wish of committed bandmates in 2014 when I joined forces with two of my dear Philadelphian friends: another ridiculously talented songwriter and singer, Matt Louridas, and one of the best drummers I know, Chris Cawley (who has now made a name for himself in NYC as an antiques dealer) and we began a musical endeavor where my songs were the main event, called The Sylvettes. Out of respect for the band, I deleted my SoundCloud page. At some point in 2015, Matt and I broke off from Chris and, now functioning as a duo, we also ditched that band name and operated without one, all while co-writing and recording new stuff together. In 2022 we finally settled on the band name Quadruple A. Keep in mind, all this time I never stopped writing and recording my own stuff, eventually “graduating” from Audacity and Skype Mic to GarageBand for iPhone and stock iPhone earbuds mic in late 2019.

In early 2023, Matt and I released the first Quadruple A single, a predominantly Matt song from 2015 called “Easy Rolling”. I wanted us to continue releasing singles, whether they were our already-recorded songs or my already-recorded songs, but it was clear that we were on pretty different life timelines and that more singles weren’t going to happen, at least at the rate I wanted. So I decided the best compromise was to withdraw my true solo recordings for a solo release and keep our recordings for Quadruple A. This obviously makes the most sense in retrospect, but again, I romantically wanted everything under one umbrella.

So I had something like 40 finished solo recordings in the vault. And by this point I had fully embraced their lo-fi nature. Like, why shouldn’t they be released as-is? Bob Pollard, give me strength. From there it was just a matter of picking the best tracks for a double album as well as some slight remixing and lining up the stems to counteract the lag that comes with recording in Audacity. And it had to be a double album; I was unwavering on that. I needed to catch up with my peers, who had spent the last ten-plus years actually releasing their recorded output. I played around with different sequencing, and while having a good flow was important, making sure it could be released on two vinyl records, i.e. four sides that were around 20 minutes each, was the most important thing. I did not consciously think about making the album gapless ahead of time; it truly fell into place that way as I was lining the songs up. But of course I leaned into it as a mega fan of The Beatles and Sloan.


I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the person who took the baton from me and got the album over the finish line: Bryan Lowe of João Carvalho Mastering in Toronto. He is the definition of bringing the pieces together to bring the final product to life. The master masterer.

2. Was there a particular moment or experience that struck you, signaling that you were onto something special with this project?

I think when some of the song-to-song transitions naturally happened, I felt like I had a real album on my hands, as opposed to a collection of disparate songs from different lifetimes. Take “Wishing It Was Us” into “Hey Little Blonde Girl”, for example. Those two songs were recorded years apart, using two different programs, and were never intended to flow perfectly, but now they were inseparable. Some of my favorite moments on the album are those song-to-song transitions.

3. The decision to seek opinions on your new songs is intriguing. When did you realize that external perspectives could contribute to your creative process?

I literally always share just-completed songs—whether they’re in acoustic demo form or their “full-band” form—with my inner circle, especially the aforementioned Maria Dontas, Matt Louridas, and Chris Cawley. Or two of my former bandmates in The Palace at 4am, Phil Bolton and Chris Sweeney, who are now part of the great Baltimore band, Surf Harp. In some cases, my excitement to show them new material gives me incentive to complete the songs. Especially if one of them had just sent me a new song of theirs that I loved. That friendly competition thing, you know?

4. Success can take on different meanings as time goes on. When envisioning success for this new record, what does that picture look like now?

The album is already successful in my eyes because it has been released and anyone, anywhere can easily listen to it. Obviously if it became critically and/or commercially successful, I’d be over the moon. But just getting it out is enough for me right now.

5. Within this collection, do you feel that the best song you’ve ever written finds its home? If not, what distinguishes this record’s essence from your prior work?

I think about this a lot. Sometimes I say the best song I’ve ever written is “I Am Exactly What I Am” from my days in The Palace at 4am. That will probably always be in my top five at worst. Then there’s a song I’m proud of called “Knucklehead”, which isn’t out anywhere but will probably be on the next album. That could be a contender. Then there’s a song that’s mostly mine called “Everybody Wants to Have Their Way with Me” that’s also not out yet but will probably be the next Quadruple A single once the dust settles on my album. As far as songs on this collection though, I’d say either “Corinne (I’m Sorry I Let You Go)” or “The Obstacle Course” could be contenders for the best song I’ve ever written, the former for its scope, the latter for its economy. “Corinne (I’m Sorry I Let You Go)” is very similar to “I Am Exactly What I Am” in that it’s a suite song. Those are usually an artist’s best, or, again, at worst, in their top five; think: The Beatles’ “Happiness is a Warm Gun”, Crosby, Stills and Nash’s “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes”, Paul McCartney and Wings’ “Band on the Run”, Matthew Sweet’s “Thunderstorm”, Sloan’s “Fading into Obscurity”.

6. As an artist, the act of baring your emotions to the world is profound. Does this vulnerability come naturally to you, or is it a constant journey of finding comfort?

Weezer’s extremely emotionally raw Pinkerton is my favorite album of all time. So if emotional vulnerability via song didn’t come naturally before I first heard it when I was 12 or 13 or whatever, it certainly did after.

7. Imagine you could collaborate with three co-writers of your choice for new songs. Who would you select, and what qualities or dynamics draw you to them?

Does everybody here say Sloan’s Chris Murphy? There’s nobody better in my book. He is John and Paul. Elvis Costello would have to be next—he’d be able to take me to school in terms of jazz chords and influences that are currently beyond me. Adam Schlesinger, one of the greatest melodicists ever, would’ve been a dream. May he rest in peace. How about Max Martin for the third collaborator? Or if I can count Benny and Björn from ABBA as one, I’ll take them—I learn ABBA songs on guitar and the chord changes just leave me in awe. So, to review: give me two guys with glasses and at least one Swede.

8. Among the gigs you’ve performed, which one holds an indelible place in your memory and why does it stand out?

The majority of the gigs I’ve performed were with The Palace at 4am. There were a few where it felt like the entire crowd was really into it. Maybe the most memorable one of those was an impromptu stripped-down performance we did in essentially a hallway. I think our original gig that night had gotten cancelled and we put the word out that we were going to perform instead in this weird spot on campus without mics. So it was memorable in that it was basically a Pop-Up show and people showed up with enthusiasm. I’m not saying it was our “Rooftop Performance”, but I’m not not saying that. Speaking of, the night before Thanksgiving of 2023 I drummed for a Beatles tribute show in Philly with guys from The Tisburys. It was inspiring to play a show where everyone in the crowd knew and loved every nuance of every song. It also helped that those guys put on a hell of a live show, which I was happy to bear witness to from behind the kit. I have not yet performed as a solo artist with a backing band.

9. Defining a song’s completion can be elusive. How do you determine when a composition has reached its final, ready-to-record form?

It’s funny because I’m always yapping about how I’m a “melodies over lyrics” guy. But as I thought about this question, I realized a song is usually ready to be recorded once the story has been told. Or if adding anything else lyrically would be redundant. Sometimes the lyrics are just meant to sound good and don’t really have meaning on my end. Maybe that correlates to the shorter songs. Sometimes I will begin recording a song before it’s really done though. For example, I didn’t really have an ending planned for the song “Little Luck” off the album, but I just hit record and found myself naturally extending the song past where it maybe should have ended, and that led to a nice little wordless coda that I now view as integral to the song.

It’s a good question though, especially in regards to the shorter songs. Like, how did I determine a song like “Tired of Chasing You ‘Round” off the album was final as a vignette? Why didn’t I flesh it out to a traditional song length? Maybe it’s laziness; maybe it’s an (undiagnosed but probable) ADHD thing. Maybe it’s a little bit of Column A and a little bit of Column B, as Matt Louridas likes to say. I’d like to think it’s because I have a keen sense of when songs have overstayed their welcome. I’d much rather leave people wanting more than have them looking at their watch (says a guy who just put out an 82 minute album).

Sometimes I look back on a song that has already been recorded and wonder if I should’ve carved out room for a guitar solo or a bridge or something. But I don’t dwell on it. In fact, once it’s recorded, that’s it for me on a structural level. Let’s say I did come up with a bridge for a song without one, like “The Obstacle Course” off the album. Well, that would just have to be part of a new song. I’m not going back and recording “The Obstacle Course [Extended Version]”. The paint has already dried, so to speak.

10. Striking a balance between experimental artistry and commercial appeal is a challenge. How do you navigate this dynamic within your music?

I had my good friend, the DJ-musician-writer-creative livewire, Peter Hadjokas, write the press release for the album (which you can read on Instagram or on Bandcamp) and in it, he observed that the music always points back to “What would The Beatles do?” He’s right: they’re my North Star, Gold Standard, etc. I’m endlessly fascinated by how they were able to make music that was simultaneously experimental on multiple levels and wildly popular. So I’m really just trying to follow the bread crumb trail that they left out. Maybe that, in and of itself, is not in their trailblazing spirit, but whatever. They were looking at what Elvis Presley did before them. And he was looking at what Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Little Richard did before him. I don’t know who they looked to. Point is: we’re all following somebody’s lead, right?

Some artists wear inaccessibility as a badge of honor. People can do what they want, but the day I do that will be the day I stop making music. The last thing I want is for my music to be inaccessible. In fact, I’m always shooting for the most popular song ever and the most pleasing sound ever. The latter might be laughable to people who are reading this, based on the fidelity of my album, but it’s true—I’m really trying my best every time. I remember showing a friend my music once and he was like “How did you get that lo-fi sound?” and I was kinda disheartened because I wasn’t trying to “get” any sound other than a good one. Of course, I’ve since come to view that descriptor as a positive—some people’s definition of a good sound is a less-polished one. But at the time I guess I equated “lo-fi” to “inaccessible”.

11. Lyrics often carry profound meaning. Are there particular lines you hope listeners will always remember from your songs? If so, what’s the significance?

There are a bunch of lyrics I’m fond of and I’d be honored if anyone remembered any single one of them of but there are none that I think are better than the music. I write songs, not poetry, you know? I will say I think the lyric and title basis for the song “My Amputee” is pretty clever: “She was my amputee / She gave her hand to me”. I know it’s not the most tasteful lyric. I hope actual amputees would forgive me.

12. Can you recall the last instance when you felt the immediate certainty of having penned a hit song?

They’re all hits to me. Like, if I’m recording at least one overdub on it, I’m generally pretty certain of its quality. The stuff I’m unsure of lives in the Voice Memos junkyard. In terms of songs on this album that I immediately felt had the potential to be popular with others, “Hey Little Blonde Girl” was one, although I also felt like maybe I had made a hit song for the wrong era. You never know, though. I kind of felt that way with “French Total”, which was a deliberate attempt to write the prettiest pop song I could and then pervert it with taboo lyrics à la The Beatles’ “Please Please Me”. I definitely had the feeling after writing this “Knucklehead” song I keep talking about. It will absolutely be a single in the next couple years. Get your hopes up.

13. With the resurgence of cassettes, imagine curating your inaugural mixtape. Which five songs would be must-adds and why?

Like, a mixtape in the High Fidelity sense or the Lil Wayne sense? Aaron Pinto basically is my Lil Wayne-type mixtape so I’ll give you the songs by other people that I would put on a mixtape for anyone.I have to start with ABBA; the only question is “Do I hit ’em with a deep cut?”. Maybe later in the mixtape, but I think I’ll go with “S.O.S.” as the must-add—I can’t even fathom someone not liking that one. Then I’ll go with two deeper cuts (for most people but probably not your readers) the Lennon-esque “My Before and After” by Cotton Mather—that one has never disappointed when I’ve shown it to people for the first time—and then for symmetry, I’ll chose a McCartney-sounding song, Emitt Rhodes’ “With My Face on the Floor”, which just knocked me out the first time I ever heard it. I like having these two songs with massive lead piano riffs next to each other. Somewhere towards the end of the playlist, I’m going to sneak in a track that might seem like a joke, but I legitimately think it might be the greatest song I’ve ever heard behind The Beach Boys’ “Surf’s Up”. The artist is—get ready—Bubble Guppies Cast and the song is called “Sun, Beautiful Sun”. It’s a children’s song (no “Surf’s Up” pun intended) only in the singer’s timbre, and, if you’re an enemy of fun, the lyrical content. Musically, it’s basically Jellyfish, but even better (and I love Jellyfish). And while the internet seems to think Adam Schlesinger wrote it, it was actually written by a guy named Michael Rubin. Also I just want to use this space to publicly thank the person who showed it to me, @theegory on Instagram; I truly can never repay him for all the joy that song has brought me. For my final selection, give me “The Tears of a Clown” by Smokey Robinson and The Miracles because if a mixtape doesn’t have Motown, is it really worth anything?

14. Performing music before an audience holds a unique allure. What aspects of this experience contribute to the excitement and enjoyment for you?

I just want people to listen to and enjoy my music. And performing live basically ensures that they do. People can say they listened to the album. And maybe they really did. But I feel like a lot of people are just throwing it on in the background while they do other stuff, which is fine, but obviously I’d prefer for people to connect deeper. Now, at a concert, you may check your phone periodically or make comments to whoever you’re there with, but most of the time all you’re doing is watching and listening to the music. So that’s exciting and enjoyable to me, knowing that most people at a show are actively listening to the music.

I also like the opportunity to offer people a different presentation than the “studio” versions of my songs. I don’t want to recreate those, live. I’ll want the sound person to make everything sound as pristine as they can. And ideally, people who can’t stand the album’s production would walk away going, “Wow, those actually are good songs.”

15. While you can’t dictate how people interpret your music, are there specific elements you wish to highlight that set your songs apart?

I think memorability is what sets my songs apart. My hope is that there’s always at least one part—whether it’s a vocal melody or a bass lick—that someone can recite to someone else to jog their memory of the song. Ideally people can even sing the drum parts, you know? Think: Dave Grohl’s Nirvana beats. If you hear one of my songs and can’t remember any part of it when it’s over, then I have failed you as a songwriter.

16. If tasked with introducing your music through three songs, which ones would you choose and what story do they collectively convey to new listeners?

“1st” kicks off the album for a reason—it kind of sets the stage for what you’re about to experience, in terms of songwriting and production. Next I’ll chose “Love, Yourself” so you can get a sense of my raw songwriting without much decoration. And then I have to go with “Corinne (I’m Sorry I Let You Go)” as that’s pretty much the full extent of everything I can do musically and lyrically. I don’t know if these three tell a cohesive story, but they’re all told from the point of view of a longing overthinker.

17. In a hypothetical scenario where you could tour with two other bands, who would be your ideal companions and what synergies do you envision?

The ideal tour companions would be the aforementioned Surf Harp and a band featuring some of its members called Jon Winslow, but it has to be the incarnation of Jon Winslow that featured Maria Dontas and her husband/guitarist, Casey Miller so we’d get some of Maria’s songs in the set as well. And I know you said two bands, but also give me The Fames, the new vehicle for the great songwriter/performer, Kevin Fulmer. Now, I’m a fan of all three bands’ music, but this hypothetical tour lineup would really just be a coup to get to spend every day with my friends.

18. Among the compliments you’ve received, is there one that remains etched in your memory? If so, what made it particularly unforgettable?

The aforementioned press release for the album is the most complimentary thing I think that exists or will ever exist about me and I will never be able to repay Peter for it. I’ll also point out one time when The Palace at 4am played a show, and afterward, some guy came up to me and asked me for the name of the song we were covering where I was singing lead vocals. I was happy to tell him it was one of my originals. It was beyond validating.

19. Studio moments often hold a touch of magic. Could you recount an instance that stands out as the most enchanting during your creative process?

Two instances immediately come to mind: the experimenting that led to the guitar solo in “The Pilots” off the album and the writing of the guitar/bass interplay that kicks off “Your Party” off the album. The latter was very much “write one, record it, repeat.” I can’t read music, but this was the closest I ever felt to being a composer instead of just a songwriter. I could hear each part in my head distinctly. It was cool. The former was so magical because I went into the recording thinking the song was complete; I never even envisioned a guitar solo for it. But I had this one stretch of the song without vocals and so I decided to try something with backwards guitar to fill the space. I absolutely loved like 90% of the backwards solo but hated how it finished so I just cut off the ending and added a forwards disco-y guitar bit that plays over an emphasized chord of the progression and it hits me emotionally every time. It may even be my favorite moment on the album.

20. Where do you see yourself situated within the broader landscape of the music industry? How do you perceive your unique role and contribution?

I’m about as low on the music industry totem pole as it gets. But I have no interest in staying there. And it’s opportunities like this that propel me upwards, so thank you. My role is that of an entry-level entertainer. My contribution is thoughtful songs that hopefully delight, help, or inspire people.

21. Envision recruiting three singers to provide harmony vocals on your next record. Who would you invite, and what qualities do they possess that resonate with you?

Probably my brother John, my Uncle Frank, and whichever one of his children, my cousins, wants the third spot. The quality they possess is that they’re Pintos. Of course there have been unbelievable harmonies in music history from unrelated people, but “nothing feels better than blood on blood” as Springsteen said. The Beach Boys, The Everly Brothers, Bee Gees, The Avett Brothers. Come on, now.

22. With the record completed and the music released, do you believe the pinnacle of enjoyment has been reached, or is this just the beginning of an exciting phase?

This is just the beginning of an exciting phase. And you got the first interview. Congrats. Kidding.

23. Looking ahead to the next couple of months, what exciting plans or projects are on the horizon for you?

The next project is getting the album released in physical form. And I don’t wanna jinx this, but once the physical copies arrive, I’d like to put on a release show and get my friends to be my backing band / opening acts / DJs. It would probably be in Philly. Probably middle-to-late summer. Keep an eye out on @aaronpintomusic on Instagram for more details.

24. Can you take us through the creative journey of bringing this album to life? What were the key milestones, challenges, and breakthroughs you experienced along the way?

I think most of the key milestones, challenges, and breakthroughs once I decided to go solo all revolved around the mastering experience. And I want to be clear that the challenges have nothing to do with the mastering engineer, Bryan Lowe, who was the most accommodating, understanding person I could’ve possibly worked with. What the challenges have to do with is my perfectionism and how much deep listening and difficult articulating I had to do—A/Bing mastered versions with the unmastered versions that I had grown attached to and then trying to describe to Bryan, all over email, the sounds I was hearing in my head so he could make what I felt were necessary tweaks. Hearing the final masters was the most key of album milestones and the biggest breakthrough.

25. How would you describe the evolution of your sound in this new album compared to your previous works? Were there intentional shifts in style or themes?

This is tough because the album features eleven years of work. So the evolution is right there for people to hear, in a scrambled order, yes, but I think it’s pretty clear which songs are older and which are newer. There are specific lyrics I wouldn’t write again today, but I’m not super embarrassed by them on the whole. Some songs are snapshots of how I felt when I was barely old enough to legally drink; cut me some slack. As for the style of music and the themes, they have both stayed pretty consistent, which is why the album isn’t super disorienting, at least in my opinion.

26. With this fresh collection of songs, how do you envision connecting with both your existing fanbase and new listeners? Are there specific emotions or messages you hope they’ll resonate with?

I mean it’s impossible to connect with everybody, but that’s gotta be the goal, right? Once again, I look to The Beatles. They came as close as you can get; even their songs that were deeply personal touched so many millions of listeners. In some cases I wrote a song about a certain scenario or with a certain sentiment because one didn’t exist already, at least that I knew of. I hope at least one other person goes “Finally, someone wrote a song about this.” for whichever song. It would be cool to know that one of these songs made someone feel less alone in the world. Specific messages that I hope people resonate with: I’ll go with either “…you gotta learn to grow” from “1st” or “Remember that this life is great” from “Love, Yourself”.

27. Albums often involve collaboration with various musicians and producers. Could you shed light on how these collaborations contributed to shaping the album’s identity?

I performed and produced every sound you hear on the album so I have no collaborators to speak of. I will instead use this space to again thank Bryan Lowe again for his time, effort, and patience in mastering a 30-song album for a person who had a very particular vision.

28. In the digital age, visual elements are intertwined with music. How did you approach the album’s visual aesthetics, such as album art and accompanying visuals? How do they complement the sonic experience you’ve crafted?

What follows is pretty ridiculous for a relatively simple album cover, but it’s all true:

The idea for the album art all started with a screenshot I had taken of a marker drawing of former Denver Nuggets forward, Alex English, that I had seen on Instagram years ago. I knew as soon as I saw it that I wanted to be depicted in that same style for an album cover, whether it was for a Quadruple A album or a solo one. But like an idiot, I didn’t capture the artist’s Instagram handle in the screenshot so I didn’t know for certain who did it. I had a hunch, but when I scrolled all the way to the beginning of their Instagram page, the post wasn’t there. I tried messaging them, emailing them—nothing. So I had to settle for someone else portraying me in that artist’s style, which is honestly what I should’ve done from the start, but I didn’t want the Alex English artist to think I was stealing their intellectual property. Whatever, I tried everything I could to get them to do it.

So next, I went to Fiverr and found an artist who said he could do it named Krystnero “Nero” Ameh. I sent him the original marker drawing of Alex English, plus different reference photos of me in a specific outfit, with a specific hairstyle/length and a pose I chose from googling unique poses or something. I basically wanted something that would look good in silhouette form, like the Michael Jordan “Jumpman” logo or that one ‘Born in the U.S.A.’-era Springsteen pose. Eventually Nero sent me the finished work and I loved it. It wasn’t exactly like the Alex English marker drawing, but I didn’t care as it was cool in its own right and now I didn’t have to worry about the Alex English artist feeling like their work was copied. But then I showed it to people and they thought the pose was too ballet and/or Riverdance and I couldn’t unsee it. When I sent it to the aforementioned Chris Cawley, he said “That’s not a ‘you’ pose. You need to be leaning—you’re a leaner.” He then sent me a picture of a famous perfumer named Frédéric Malle where he was leaning and I loved the pose so much I immediately had Nero take his original drawing of me and reconfigure the pose so it was exactly the same as Frédéric Malle’s in the photo.

So that was settled. From there I put my name in all caps in Neue Helvetica Pro 25 Ultra Light and selected a background color shade of pink that was almost white—which I thought was cool because it was like combining the cover colors of the two 30-song double albums that were my blueprints: The Beatles’ “White Album” and Sloan’s Never Hear the End of It.

For the artwork of the album’s singles I just shifted the hue of that whiteish pink so that I had it in yellow, blue, green, and purple. Same font of my name up top and then I sized it for the song titles so that theoretically if I had made art for every single, even the longest song title on the album would’ve fit the width. I slapped a little version of the album art at the bottom of each single and that was that. I absolutely love that at first glance, they all look white.

I made sure I didn’t introduce any new design elements to the teaser videos I made for the singles and the album, other than the logo of my label, Clear Coat Recordings.

The album art might look a little more professional than the album sounds, but at the same time, I used a free online version of Photoshop called Photopea to put it together, I don’t have much formal training in graphic design, so there’s still that same amateur quality to it in my mind. The album is a portrait of me; the art is a portrait of me. I think they complement each other well.

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