My last Mariassunta album took months to record. In a windowless room, alone with a narcissist.

We had a ritual in which my music was slowly sanitized and my sense of reality distorted.

The artist sitting on the floor holding a guitar in one hand and reaching towards something in the foreground with the other.
Guitar pedals, a laptop, and an open journal spread out over a carpet

I recorded my next album on the living room floor, the vocals in the bedroom.

It took a couple hours. I’ll keep the imperfections because I love them.

Sample of a new song, recorded at home.