Renewal and Redemption at the Bleeding Edge

Lately, I've realized that many of the most important people in my life came into it when I was either lit, slightly sauced, or nursing a hangover. To those I met when I was too far gone—who knows what miracles might have come of it? This is to say that, although I've had fun, I know when it goes too far. Life is unpredictable, and if I didn't know any better, I'd swear I'm cosplaying as a more lothario-esque Forrest Gump—except it's the Truman Show, and the emperor has no clothes. I'm not the only one.

2020 marked an epistemological untethering—a pure abstraction, a perfection of capitalism and gnosis. Put simply, we no longer serve ourselves; we serve an idyllic, haute baroque uniformity prescribed in the interest of increasing shareholder value. It's no wonder, as A.L. Bahta referenced in his talk 'The Metaphysics of Party Culture', that, being 'lost in an Apollonian dream state,' we turn to substances to allow us 'to exist normally in an abnormal world.'

Like so many others, I yearn for a return—a renewal and redemption of our former selves, rooted in sensuality and corporeal experience, before abstraction took hold. To be renewed, one must renew their interests. This personal essay is an effort at self-renewal, but it also serves doubly as a way for you, dear twilighter, to get to know me.

I am curious about the heart and what drives anyone to do anything at all. I take myself as the object of study: Why would I, for example, push myself to the bleeding edge for a chance at inclusion in the pantheon of global culture? After countless hours of reflection, I realize it is simply a matter of self-expression—deep within each of us rests a burning desire to etch our values and ideals into the annals of civilization, long after our flame has withered away.

I've grown used to living life on the bleeding edge—because it's in that space between reverie and rapture that I most often find myself grappling with meaning and purpose, where the highest essence, and everything it reveals, or will reveal, comes into focus.

My naivete is at odds with the nature of the simulacrum that is the music industry, where nearly all songs are homogenized, tailor-made, and designed for a specific result—global virality, however transient and ephemeral. I, too, succumbed, became ensnared, and turned corrupt, no longer involved in music for its own sake. Instead, I pursued it as a means to extricate myself from a rather gnarly situation that I had dug myself into through ego and desire, destroying my kinship in the process.

This ensnarement is perhaps the impetus behind my yearning and could be seen as a metaphor for ensnarement at large—chained to a panopticon where we seek validation through likes, shares, and reposts, hoping to go viral and believing this will somehow justify our existence and give it meaning. This, of course, is an illusion.

We may all be in search of meaning and purpose in this upside-down world, but perhaps we are asking the wrong questions and looking for answers in the wrong places.

In the following vignette, I explore this mirage, offering a perspective from within the center of the hegemon that anchors today's global zeitgeist—and propose an alternative path, one I hope you will consider joining.

On November 21st, 2018, I woke up in my schwanky room at the hotel formerly known as The Williamsburg Hotel—on cloud nine after a sold-out show for my flagship client, Riz La Vie, at the now-defunct Rough Trade venue. That night marked a major milestone for me as an independent in the music industry, operating as NINETYONEMGMT. This was the final leg of the tour after traveling cross-country and performing at venues like Brick and Mortar in San Francisco and The Resident in Los Angeles.

We had been riding high on the momentum of Riz's single 'Napkins,' a strategic placement I orchestrated, with the help of a good friend whose brother worked with multi-platinum producer Detail (Beyoncé, etc.). This momentum had garnered Riz attention from several suitors, including Darcus Beese, known for signing Amy Winehouse, and Dr. Luke, infamous for his fallout after his treacherous ordeal with Kesha. The tour was a strategy to reign them all in—and it worked, but more on that some other time perhaps.

I mistakenly signaled to Riz that I came from a silver spoon, but nothing could be further from the truth. On my way back home to Sussex County—a drive of at least two hours from Williamsburg—I felt nostalgic and decided to stop at my roots: Union City, at 48th Street on Bergenline Avenue, to visit my old apartment building and reflect. Fate had her way with me; while parked across the street from that building, a truck rear-ended my car, foreshadowing what was to come—a descent into madness and destitution.

Eventually, I advised Riz to reject the less-than-robust deals offered by both Dr. Luke and Darcus Beese, opting instead to sign a distribution deal with Kobalt in early 2019—a deal I secured through a relationship I had formed in London earlier that year. This would lay a foundation for his career as an independent artist, as well as for mine—or so I had thought. My mind was focused on bottom-line returns, while his was centered on freedom of expression and individuality—forming the basis of a tension that would eventually break our bond.

His reticence to formalize our partnership led to my jupiterian approach to management. We had to make ends meet, after all, though what I couldn't admit to him—or even to myself—was that this urgency stemmed from my growing fear of becoming insolvent. So I precariously encroached into his creative territory, and he responded with even more ambivalence until, finally, we were at each other's throats, figuratively speaking.

In hindsight, I now realize that I lacked the wherewithal to support myself as an independent manager at the time. It was a mistake for me to signal that I was ready for such a role; it was more of a reckless passion project, driven by vainglory rather than a solid foundation.

The final straw came when Riz received his advance from the distribution deal, which I had instructed AWAL to deposit into a newly opened business bank account that I had set up with him—intentionally leaving my name off the account to respect his sovereignty as an artist. When Riz and my co-manager, who believed he was acting in Riz's best interest, decided to allocate the advance entirely toward his European tour and his upcoming EP, Breathe, I wasn't consulted.

There was no discussion about the compensation I was owed, nor about covering my travel and accommodation expenses for the tour. I took personal offense to this, feeling that my efforts and role had been undermined. In response, I chose not to attend the tour and handed over my responsibilities to my co-manager. By April 2019, both our professional relationship and our friendship had come to an end.

Falling out was akin to being exiled from the music industry—suddenly, my itinerary was clear, and I had space to just think for a while. I realized I had hit a metaphorical wall in my journey when, on the outside, I was perceived as successful—evidenced by engagement on my Instagram from other industry luminaries—but on the inside, I felt disconnected from both the work and the people I was involved with.

Everything became a meta-game about securing the right connections, opportunities, or impressions to reach the next phase of the career arc, rather than being about the music and the experience itself. I had to cope with the collapse of my romantic ideals and face reality head-on by working odd jobs in between my next opportunities. Surprisingly, this is where I came of age, realizing that my vision for success was merely a myth I'd designed.

This realization reawakened the flame within—an inferno, swallowing all desire. The burning of this loss fueled my next venture in life, and as the flame grew within me, jealousy of others' success stoked the embers. I became restless, thriving in my agony, fueled by rage, but tepid no more. Suddenly, my faith in my original vision was renewed, and I was determined to bring my ideal to life, no matter the cost. It had become more than a mere ambition—it became an inevitability.

I picked up work with other clients, leading to new opportunities and adventures with luminaries like Travis Barker, The Stereotypes, and A&Rs like Shawn Barron—but nothing ever really clicked the way it did with my first client.

Regardless, I went all in, placing my bets on this single opportunity, thanks to a peer I'd once worked with on an A&R analytics report for XXXTentacion—one that eventually led to his signing with SONGS Publishing, where I'd interned back in 2017. Amusingly enough, my peer's company, Sodatone, was later acquired by Warner Music.

In 2020, I prepared to fly to Los Angeles to meet Barron, an A&R at Motown Records known for signing Ty Dolla Sign. Shortly after, news of the pandemic broke, and my trip was postponed indefinitely. The simulation had come to a crashing halt.

I was really tired—the A&R role that was supposed to move me out to Los Angeles permanently became virtual. With the rise of TikTok, the role became increasingly abstracted from real-life communities, as the label's focus shifted more toward generated content designed for virality.

Not to mention, the industry gaslighted me—I scouted several prominent next-gen acts like Amaarae and Redveil, yet these A&Rs wouldn't give me credit or acknowledgement and were even so haughty as to pass up on these acts. I was part of a cohort of A&R consultants who, as far as I know, never even got paid.

COVID condemned me to live at home in Sussex County, where few, if any, relevant opportunities existed. While Motown was a lifeline, I couldn't depend on them for my living. Finally, after Barron kept playing phone tag with me (another dark tactic to prod me into acquiescence), I put my foot down, called up Legal, and demanded my pay.

In the midst of all this turmoil, and what seemed to be a dead end in my career, a new path opened up that set me on a more poised track. Not only did the world enter a new era with the Saturn-Jupiter conjunction in 2020, but so did the global economy with the Bitcoin halving that same year. This prompted me to purchase my first hardware cryptocurrency wallet, a Ledger. Following my intuition, I then purchased my ENS name, estmcmxci.eth, along with a few more ENS names that represented my brand's portfolio.

The following year, in 2021, I received word that ENS had delivered an airdrop—something I had no idea about at the time. My curiosity piqued, and what began as a new interest soon evolved from a hobby into an obsession, eventually turning into a career opportunity that complimented my existing path.

It was humbling; after working at the highest levels in the music industry, I began contributing to the ENS DAO as their newsletter editor—helping me through a fiscally challenging period. It also gave me insight into the world of decentralized governance and what could become the foundational layer of the 'New Internet.'

Fast forward to today, I feel a profound maturity developing within me. I no longer feel vindictive and am learning to deal with my feelings of jealousy—feelings that, until very recently, I hadn't realized had plagued me all my life and likely contributed to my earlier downfall. There's more work to be done, however. I am really only just getting started.

As I reflect, I see that while I’ve changed, the pseudo-reality remains as surreal as ever. Capitalism has accelerated, with stars rising and falling faster, leaving meaning and purpose by the wayside. Yet, I see through the mirage, aware of how my intentions can shape the world.

I've become the director of my reality, no longer just an extra. I've swapped the precepts of a false industry for a vision true to myself, where freedom and agency take center stage. I've mastered the twilight between chaos and order, embracing both Apollo and Dionysus.

We're in a soup of algorithmically curated content, chasing trends, hoping to find meaning in the travesty of speculation, trivia, and virality. It’s time for a new order—not a rejection of the past, but a transformation of our relationship with it. With intention, we can create a reality where culture, technology, and self-expression flourish on their own terms, free from capitalism's invisible hand.

I’ve laid bare my struggles, strengths, and unique perspective at the intersection of culture and technology. I can be an adversary or an ally, depending on where you stand. This isn’t just a personal story; it’s a call to those seeking self-renewal, agency, and the courage to embrace our liminal world—those ready to creatively direct their own lives. I ask for your trust.

I'm creating this space, my blogsite, as a platform to document these collaborations and showcase the cultural artifacts we build together. My hope is that by rallying S-tier mavericks to focus their energy through the lens I offer, we will gradually attract the resources needed to manifest our collective vision.

Today, I am on a relentless quest to materialize these dreams. I have faith that by committing fully to this pursuit, I will attract the friends, supporters, and collaborators who will reify my ideal. There is no other option, for without this, I would surely self-destruct.

To be inevitable means rejecting the notion that we are defined solely by our circumstances and upbringing. It's about recognizing that we always have a choice: to accept things as they are or to move heaven and earth to reshape them in our image.

To cultivate a sense of inevitability, we must brave the fire and forge ourselves and the world into the image of our ideal, imbuing it with our very essence. For our paradise lies in the shadow of the sword, brandished from the flames of our scorn. This act of self-determination and transformation is, in itself, a revolutionary practice.

I desire renewal, redemption, and a second chance—this time with sobriety, tact, and the understanding that nothing meaningful can be achieved without the coordination of talented teams committed to shared goals and aspirations. I know I am not the only one. We seek a return to a third space where we can express ourselves, find our friends and lovers, and collectively shape our culture.

If any of this resonates with you—on a personal or professional level—please reach out. This is your invitation to step into the twilight and co-author the next chapter of our new world.

© OAKGROUP, WORLDWIDE., 2024. All rights reserved.